Hearing the roar behind him, Li Su halted.
He wasn't surprised that Hua Zhengtian had caught up.
After all, he hadn't been moving quickly, nor had he changed direction much. The meaning of that was obvious.
The other man would definitely come.
And he would come in a frenzy of rage.
What a joke. The methods he had painstakingly prepared for three days had not only proved utterly useless, but had instead poisoned more than seven thousand righteous-path disciples.
Even though this was only their first meeting, Li Su understood very well what kind of reaction such a person would have.
The other man could never accept such a crushing defeat.
It wasn't that he was especially proud; rather, his nature would absolutely not tolerate such an ending.
People as cold and merciless as him usually cared only about themselves.
Mutual destruction was acceptable to him. A one-sided victory was acceptable too. But a one-sided defeat? Absolutely not.
After all, making righteous-path disciples use evil arts—even if they had been modified to a certain extent—evil-path arts were still evil-path arts. Once used, they were no good thing for those forty-nine cultivators.
He clearly had many other methods at his disposal, yet he had still chosen this one.
Considering the effects produced by this method, perhaps he did indeed harbor a bone-deep hatred for the evil path. But compared to killing Li Su, how Li Su died mattered more.
It could not be said that his actions had put the cart before the horse.
But to say there had been no desire to put on a show in the way he had chosen would clearly be impossible.
More or less, it was a form of publicity.
To put it simply: My hatred for the evil path runs as deep as the