The Daoist Could Be Useful

Su Ziji watched the Black Python Spirit burst in, bristling with aggression, and felt not the slightest surprise. He had marked him as a traitor long ago and had only been waiting for a crucial moment to see what he intended to do.

After asking his question, Su Ziji watched him. Seeing him apparently frozen, he asked again in a mild voice.

"And if I refuse, what will you do? Rebel?"

That question, delivered with a half-smile, snapped the Black Python Spirit back to his senses.

The Black Python Spirit looked up. The courage the drumbeats had inflated in him went flat with a hiss, as though pricked by a needle.

The Dragon Lord's gaze was icy, utterly at odds with his smile. His dragon pupils were unfathomably deep; no secret, however well hidden, seemed able to escape them.

And he was nothing but a clown making a spectacle of himself.

With a thud, the Black Python Spirit's body proved more honest than his mind and dropped straight to its knees in the hall. He wished he could beat to death the reckless fool he had been a moment ago, when he had dared to barge in, and repeatedly knocked his head against the floor.

"Dragon Lord, I deserve death for forcing my way into the hall in my haste! But I was thinking of you!"

"Listen! The drums outside are urging you on. There's something very strange about them. We Great Demons hear them and feel our demon blood churn, while the lesser demons collapse to the ground. If this goes on, it could even damage their foundations and beat them back into their original forms."

"Dragon Lord, this must be the Wei Dynasty's warning to you and the Dragon Palace that the prince overseeing the rainfall has run