"My lord, what exactly are you waiting for?"
"If we keep waiting, the day lilies will have gone cold."
"That old Saint may be sick to the marrow, but he won't die anytime soon."
"All the heavenly treasures of the Origin Continent, along with ninety-nine Ninth Heaven Quasi-Saint Realm experts, are sustaining that old Saint's life. If we want to wait for him to die, it will take at least a million years."
"A million years is enough for the world to change beyond recognition. Who knows what will happen after a million years?"
"If we don't fight now, then when?"
As the silver-haired old man spoke, even his tone grew somewhat anxious.
No matter how one looked at it, no matter what method one used to assess it.
Right now was the best opportunity.
Right now was the best time.
If they did not fight now, when were they supposed to fight?
Were they to wait until a million years later, after another Saint emerged on the Origin Continent?
"That old bastard may look half-dead now, but his Saint status is still there. He is still a Saint."
"If we fight now, should I wait for that old bastard to come and trade one life for one with me?"
Mo Long spoke, his voice deep and heavy.
As he spoke, the space around them trembled.
"My lord, are we just going to wait like this?"
The silver-haired old man was utterly bewildered.
Fight or not fight—were they just going to keep waiting?
Like fools.
"Heh, what do you know?"
"That old bastard does not have long to live. For the past several million years, we have been battling across the void, and I have been steadily draining his strength."
"What million years? If he can live another hundred thousand