"Beast!!!"
Meanwhile, in a courtyard somewhere in Windward City, a middle-aged man stood beneath the dark clouds, gripping a blade and pointing it at the blood-soaked young man kneeling before him. He roared furiously, "What? Because I won't pass the position of family head to you, you're going to kill your own father?"
"You could even lay hands on your own father? How could you be so heartless?!"
"You lied to me, lied to me... You all lied to me..."
The blood-soaked young man kneeling on the ground had already fallen into despair. The few Lineage thugs he had recruited during this period were all lying in pools of blood, and he himself was already at the end of his rope.
His greatest source of confidence had been his demonic cultivator master.
His master had told him to act as he pleased—that he was in Windward City, and as long as he contacted him through a Voice-Transmission Talisman, he would certainly arrive within a hundred breaths.
That had been his confidence.
Yet several thousand breaths had already passed—nearly ten thousand breaths, even—and there was still no sign of his demonic cultivator master. No one answered through the Voice-Transmission Talisman either. Who knew where the hell he had died!!!
A thick tide of unwillingness surged through the young man's heart.
"Ah!!!"
In his breakdown, the young man forcibly propped himself up with the tip of his blade and staggered to his feet. With a savage expression, he pointed the blade at his father. "You old beast, at your age, you still can't keep the thing between your legs under control. What right do you have to lecture me?!"
"A man who achieves great things can never have his heart hooked away by a woman."
"Especially a worn-out shoe trampled by ten