Peng Suo had not finished his low chant when a weight settled on his shoulder. Li Bocai had draped an arm around him and whispered in his ear. It felt intimate, yet what came from his mouth was nothing but venom:
"Look at this little trial—mending Heaven's crack... Mending Heaven with a sword. How absurd."
Peng Suo struggled angrily, but Li Bocai held him firmly in place. "If you go over now, you really will 'die like a man.' Maybe you'll trade it for an iron heart and steel guts or something. But where will you die? On the road—only on the road!
"If you want stirring grandeur, if you want to turn the tide, only those Sword Immortals can do it. You can't. Neither can I. In truth, even Ye Banshan doesn't quite carry enough weight.
"Do you believe me? If he were killed now, demon-corrupted, then here..."
His other hand patted Peng Suo's chest, then his head. "And here—the feeling would be utterly different."
Li Bocai gave a dark chuckle. "That is the marvelous use and limitation of the Method of Morality. Those figures who could 'draw their swords and stir wind and cloud, raise an arm and command the world's response' had more or less died out five calamities ago. Now, we still have to see what ordinary people can do."
Peng Suo fell silent for a moment. "Brother Bocai, I have long wanted to ask: what exactly is Sword Discussion Pavilion doing this for? What does it intend to do? Is it merely to cooperate with the Boundless Void Divine Lord in sacrificing the shaman gods to demons? To cooperate with the Rakshasa Ghost King in overturning an entire realm? And now, to continue cooperating with the Demon Tide, coldly watching the True Realm suffer calamity