Within the carriage, the mind of Zhao Cheng's Daoist body was calm to the extreme. Several days ago, he had already detected the watchful eyes and killing intent of several masters. He had merely kept it secret and had not sent troops to sweep through the city and kill them.
The reason was naturally that these masters were all watching from a considerable distance through Daoist arts. The moment the army moved, it would startle the grass and alert the snake. He might be able to kill two or three of them, but he could not kill them all.
With the mobility of a Human Immortal, if one was determined to flee, then unless they were trapped amid a sea of people, it was difficult to kill them so long as they did not confront an army head-on. And he was alone; he could not split himself apart.
So he simply used himself as bait, creating an opportunity for them and luring them here to surround and kill him, so that he could wipe them all out in one stroke.
Though a son of gold does not sit beneath a crumbling wall, under normal circumstances, as a ruler, the best response to such a situation would have been to secretly make arrangements, lay down a net spread across heaven and earth, and then encircle and kill them in one fell swoop.
When Zhao Cheng's Daoist body had first descended into this world, that had been precisely its temperament.
Just as when Wu Yuan had been surrounded and killed, just as when the Way of Yellow Heaven had faced the allied army, Zhao Cheng had always remained in the safe rear, issuing commands without taking the slightest risk himself.
But now, with the growth of his own strength—and more importantly, due