Run...
The abbot of Fist Emperor Temple had completely lost the confidence he had held earlier. All he wanted now was to escape and survive.
As long as he survived, with his resources and his partnership with the minister, he could rise again.
Though he was deeply unwilling to accept it.
How had things come to this? Fist Emperor Temple, a top-tier force that had stood within the Empire for centuries, had actually been destroyed by a mere handful of rebel assassins.
The elders, each no weaker than the Four Rakshasa Demons, along with the temple's strongest law-enforcement disciples... without exception, once they had gone after Night Raid, there had been no further news of them.
Then... Night Raid had reappeared unharmed, while not a single elder had returned.
Everything pointed to the elders and law-enforcement disciples meeting with disaster, yet he found it impossible to believe. That was a force even the Four Rakshasa Demons could not face, and just like that...
Yet that was not even the worst part. When chaos had broken out on the other side earlier, the abbot had deployed people, but he had not taken it too seriously.
He had believed that an elder leading the group would resolve it quickly.
But unexpectedly... not only had they failed to resolve it, even more than half of the elder and disciples sent to deal with it had been lost.
Not only had they failed to stop the zombies, the zombie ranks had instead expanded considerably. Dead people kept climbing back up and joining the zombies... attacking the people of Fist Emperor Temple.
Faced with the zombies and Night Raid, Fist Emperor Temple's disciples dwindled by the moment, until they finally collapsed completely.
Even the abbot himself had finally made up his mind to turn and