Zhu Yan lowered her hand.
"Three years from now, either he dies, or you die. Remember the date clearly. Don't come begging me for more time when the day comes."
"Your Eminence!" Dai Weisi shuffled forward on his knees, nearly throwing himself at the steps.
"My father is surrounded by countless Imperial Guards, and he is a Soul Douluo himself. I can barely even get close to him now, let alone do something like this! If anything goes wrong, Zhu Zhuyun and I won't survive!"
"That's your problem."
Zhu Yan raised her sleeve, and Soul Power bore down on him head-on.
Dai Weisi hurriedly tried to block it, but a heavy blow had already struck his chest, sending him flying off the ground. Zhu Zhuyun was still clutching his sleeve and was thrown toward the hall doors with him.
The doors stood wide open. The two flew through them and crashed down the white jade steps one after another. Dai Weisi landed on his shoulder, pain blackening his vision. He rolled down more than a dozen steps before barely managing to brace himself.
A loud bang sounded behind them as the doors slammed shut again.
The night wind blew over his sweat-soaked clothes, making Dai Weisi shudder.
He propped himself up against the steps and sat up. His left shoulder hurt too badly to lift, and his palms had been scraped raw. Zhu Zhuyun lay beside him, her hair disheveled as she gritted her teeth and forced herself up.
The two looked at each other, but neither could say a word.
Dai Weisi looked up at those doors. Before coming here, he had only wanted to borrow Spirit Hall's strength to win the competition. Now, before the competition was even settled, he had to take money from the national treasury