"Hm? That old undead Olasge seems to be ready to risk his life."
In the distance, Carefree Patriarch seemed to sense something and stared at Olasge and the other Illusion Race Saints.
"Risk his life? What we need to fear is that the old bastard is putting on an act. How many times has he done this already? On the surface, he looks like he's fighting for his life, but in truth, he just wants to run. We must stay on guard against him."
Void Patriarch sneered. He had been fooled by Olasge's lifelike acting several times before. Though he was clearly an Invincible Saint, when it came to running away, he was faster than anyone—utterly shameless, with none of an Invincible Saint's bearing.
"Indeed. And even now, the Abyss Demons have yet to appear. Have they abandoned the Illusion Race? I find this highly unusual. Have they given up on the Illusion Race, or are they simply so confident in the Illusion Race's strength that they do not fear its extermination? A pawn like the Illusion Race should not be discarded."
Another ancestor-level Saint narrowed his eyes. He found this matter highly unusual. These old monsters had stationed themselves nearby precisely to guard against the Illusion Race's trump cards, as well as infiltration and encirclement by the Abyss Demons.
Yet there had still been no movement whatsoever. But the more it was like this, the more uneasy they became. A dog that truly bites does not bark; they feared that the Abyss Demons might be plotting some sinister scheme.
"We truly must be careful. That old undead Olasge still hasn't shown the slightest despair. He remains brimming with confidence. I'm afraid he truly has some trump card that can free him from this predicament. A fierce beast on the