After the abbot's words fell, the monks below all lowered their heads, not daring to so much as fart.
"Hmph."
Seeing this, the abbot merely snorted coldly, though he kept sighing inwardly.
No matter how wildly these fellows jumped around, there was nothing he could do about them.
His condition was terrible now. Merely keeping these fellows in check had already cost him immense effort.
As for dealing with them? That was nothing but wishful thinking.
"Get the hell out of here, all of you!"
Looking at those fellows with their heads lowered, the abbot finally roared in fury.
Out of sight, out of mind. Once he could no longer see them, all would be well.
"We shall take our leave."
The monks below gave a slight bow upon hearing this. They knew the abbot could do nothing to them.
Though he was at the eighth level of Golden Immortal, how much longer could he hold out?
If he rashly made another move now and worsened his injuries, then so what? He would still be unable to do anything to them.
"Cough, cough—cough, pfft!"
Just as the monks below were about to leave, the old man, who had sounded so full of vigor moments ago, suddenly widened his eyes and spat out a great mouthful of blood.
Blood stained the golden floor.
In that instant, the abbot seemed to have aged completely. His face was full of sorrow, his skin shriveled, and deathly energy coiled around his body.
His earlier move had made him unable to suppress the injuries within him. Now that they had flared up again, his situation had become even more dire.
More dire still was the fact that the monks below, who had originally intended to leave, abruptly halted and all turned to look at the