Hearing the Flood Dragon King's words, Yuan Rong hesitated for a moment.
Thirty-six flying swords hovered above him, their sword radiance flickering endlessly, yet they never descended.
However, a violent bolt of lightning suddenly pierced through the pool water and shot toward one of the eighth-order flood dragon corpses.
The one who acted was Song Wen.
The Thunder Kui Wings behind him spread fully open, crackling arcs of electricity still dancing along the edges of their feathers.
Watching the lightning draw ever closer, the Flood Dragon King made no move to stop it. It merely lifted its eyes and gave Song Wen a somewhat surprised glance.
And just as it had said, when the lightning was about to strike the corpse, a black barrier abruptly lit up and blocked it.
"Do you believe this king now?" the Flood Dragon King said flatly.
"Since matters have come to this, you might as well speak plainly. You forced us here—what exactly do you intend?" Yuan Rong repeated his question.
This time, the Flood Dragon King did not pretend not to hear.
"It was not this king who forced you here. It was this formation that left you no choice but to come."
A cold smile curled across Yuan Rong's lips.
"And the formation is not under your control?"
"Indeed, it is," said the Flood Dragon King. "However, once this formation has been activated, it cannot be shut down at will. Otherwise, this king's preparations of countless years would go down the drain."
The five of them immediately darkened.
From the Flood Dragon King's tone, it seemed it was about to make its move against them.
Yet it spoke in a low, unhurried voice.
"Rest assured, this king will not harm you. Besides, with this king's strength alone, I could not kill all