Sun Tong and Huang Chengyu had descended the mountain this time under their master's orders, meant to temper themselves in the mortal world and lay the groundwork for the future situation.
But if they died at Zhao Cheng's hands now and met an end where body and soul were utterly annihilated, then forget taking part in the great undertaking of Investiture of the Gods or attaining immortal rank—even the most basic right to enter reincarnation would become a vain hope.
Even if their master descended the mountain in wrath afterward and ground Zhao Cheng's bones to ash to avenge them, what use would that be?
The dead could not return to life, and with body and soul annihilated, there would not even be a chance to start over. By then, everything would be too late.
"Brother Zhao... Brother Zhao! Please calm down—don't act rashly!"
As Sun Tong watched Zhao Cheng draw closer step by step, every footfall seemed to land on the tip of his heart, weighing heavily on his chest.
He hurriedly spoke in desperation, his voice thick with pleading. "Look, killing us won't do you any good either!
Why forge a mortal enmity? Why not sit down and discuss this? There must be a way that benefits us both!"
Zhao Cheng stopped before him and looked down at his ashen face, a trace of coldness in his eyes. "Killing you really does me no good.
But if I don't kill you, I'll have to spend effort keeping an eye on the two of you. What good does that do me?"
Sun Tong and Huang Chengyu exchanged a glance. Both saw the afterglow of surviving a calamity in the other's eyes—their chance had come. They hastily said, "Both our magic treasures are already in your hands. We truly have