Although the Lie Sovereign had been partially sidelined, he was still decisive in his actions and understood how to make trade-offs. This could be seen from how, after Daoist Yu persuaded him, he immediately handed the cursed artifact over to the Six Sects.
As he pressed his finger down, he could feel his blood being frantically drawn in. In that instant, he felt as if he had been drained dry.
He still thought to himself that this had clearly been the Council of Elders' doing, yet now he had to bear the consequences. But if he did not do this now, perhaps he would ultimately only be captured and killed by the Xi Emperor. Compared to such an ending, he would rather make some sacrifices. At least it would not take his life immediately.
Gradually, he felt cold all over and became dizzy, while the seashell grew increasingly vivid. The vermilion characters upon it rose further into relief, as if blood were about to seep from them.
After a long while, he felt the pulling force finally stop. Yet, perhaps because he had lost such a great quantity of blood and vital essence, his face had turned incomparably pale.
He left the desk, staggered a few steps, and collapsed into a cushioned chair. Trembling, he took several pills from his sleeve, crushed them, and put them into his mouth. Then he reached for a cup, but in his dizziness and weakness, he failed to grasp it several times. In the end, he forcefully swallowed the pills with his saliva.
A short while later, as he felt the potent medicinal power spread through him, he finally caught his breath. After another while, some color returned to his face. He let out a long breath, slumped limply in the cushioned chair, and