The Evil Cultivator Ancestor stroked his blood-red beard. A smile had originally been on his face, but upon hearing Yang Chen's words, he suddenly narrowed his eyes into slits.
As he looked at Yang Chen, he resembled a venomous snake baring sharp fangs.
The icy chill within his aura seemed to proclaim that he was somewhat angered.
After a moment, he let out an arrogant laugh and said with his hands behind his back, "Heaven's punishment? Fellow Daoist, are you joking with me, Han Kun? Harming others and oneself? But you have seen it too—my little brats are happily cultivating these secret arts. So long as they can cultivate quickly and achieve results, what does it matter if they harm others and themselves? Cultivators cultivate by fighting heaven and fighting men. Where do all these hypocritical rules come from? As for heaven's punishment? Hahaha, everything you and I do is an act of defying heaven. Why should we fear heaven's punishment?"
Yang Chen gently shook his head. This Han Kun truly had a sharp tongue. As expected of an Evil Cultivator Ancestor who had lived for so many years.
In the other man's eyes, he likely did not believe there was anything wrong with what he had done.
"Some things require the right balance between restraint and release. The existence of evil cultivators must have its purpose, but if you harm the interests of the race and still remain oblivious, how are you any different from pests?" Yang Chen's dark eyes stared straight at him, carrying the air of an interrogation.
Ancestor Han Kun was already somewhat angered, but considering Yang Chen's cultivation and mysterious background, he temporarily suppressed the blazing fury within him.
"The interests of the race? Ridiculous. What damned interests of the race? Humans are humans, and