Yan Yu seemed not to hear the voices behind him as he continued climbing toward the seat above on his own, leaving a long trail of blood in his wake.
"Patriarch, why not let me strike him down? Yan Yu is, after all, the Holy Lord of the Yin-Yang Sacred Land, an old monster who has lived through three great eras. He may yet have some trick up his sleeve."
The elder standing beside Wang Tian stepped forward and spoke softly.
"No need. His lamp is running dry and his oil nearly spent; he can't stir up any waves now. Judging by his state, he should still have an unfulfilled wish. Today, I'll give him the chance to settle it."
Upon hearing Wang Tian's words, the two Wang Family elders behind him exchanged glances, helplessness flickering through both their eyes.
This patriarch... was still too young.
If it were anyone else, Yan Yu would have been slain already. They had already wiped out his sacred land, so why put on the act of being a good man now?
As the saying went, the longer things dragged on, the greater the changes.
In the end, the two elders said nothing. Wang Tian was now the patriarch, and since the patriarch insisted, they could not well oppose his decision.
"I'm here. Wait for me, Lu'er."
Yan Yu struggled his way onto the seat. His broken body slowly sat down, and with a slight exertion of his right hand, the seat beneath him trembled. The next moment, the entire seat vanished into thin air.
"What happened?"
"That old fox truly is cunning. There's clearly another passage below. Come, break it open with me."
The moment Yan Yu disappeared, the two elders behind Wang Tian were greatly alarmed. Yan Yu was the Holy Lord