Qu Hanming's old fist clenched, then loosened, then clenched again...
His mind frantically weighed the pros and cons, frantically searching for some other solution. Yet the sword wounds Sikong Jing, that little devil, had left on him seemed to be telling him that demonic intent towering to the heavens could not be defied.
That little devil Sikong Jing's methods had already far surpassed anything ordinary people could imagine.
He would do exactly as he said. If Qu Hanming desperately broke his barrier, he would desperately kill Qu Hanming, Xu He, and everyone else.
Even if they were merely gravely wounded, the Thousand Kings Holy Tower would no longer value them. Northern Abyss Cold Mountain would then be driven alive into collapse by the madwomen of their mortal enemy, the Thoughtless Sacred Sect. The future would be pitch-black.
Forget the Thousand Kings Ten Emperors Battle—even Northern Abyss Cold Mountain might gradually decline because of this.
As he thought it over, Qu Hanming looked up at Sikong Jing again, and the fear and panic in his heart grew ever stronger...
At that moment, sword shadows still coiled endlessly around Sikong Jing's body, accompanied by the terrifying pressure of a ferocious beast from their earlier close-quarters battle. Qu Hanming's heart trembled wildly once more. That pressure made him feel fear without even realizing it.
In his eyes, Sikong Jing's figure seemed to grow taller and taller.
At last, Qu Hanming felt as if even his mind and spirit were about to be crushed apart.
The result of his deliberation gradually emerged. For Northern Abyss Cold Mountain, fighting to the death and dragging the net down with the fish would bring far more harm than good.
Finally, Qu Hanming's eyes slowly reddened. In a hoarse voice, he said, "Even if I announce my allegiance