Guangchengzi already saw the consequences of refusing. The fates of the Sanxiao Goddesses during the Investiture of the Gods surfaced in his mind. They had truly been moths flying into the flame, mantises trying to stop a chariot—departing in bleak defeat without even causing a ripple!
Real Person Yuding sat ramrod straight, his pride concealed, his indifference free of arrogance. He resembled a swordsman more than a Celestial. After his initial panic and shock passed, he remained silent until he heard Guangchengzi's bitter words. Only then did he sweep his gaze coldly over his fellow disciples and speak concisely:
"What is a sect leader?"
Without waiting for his fellow disciples to answer, he continued on his own:
"The symbol of a sect, the head of Yuxu!"
"If even our sect leader can be killed, and we fear death and stand by with folded arms, then what need is there for fellow disciples? What need is there for Yuxu Palace? We might as well disband and go our separate ways!"
His words were decisive. Real Person Yuding rose, his aura surging and his Sword Intent piercing the heavens. Looking at Guangchengzi, he said loudly:
"Our generation has long withered away. Why are we still clinging to life? What do you think the Four Zhuxian Swords in our hands are for?"
"Without an Other Shore Being, if others come to bully us at our doorstep, what good will further retreat do? Today, they can name our junior sect leader as their target. Tomorrow, they can send us invitations demanding that we destroy ourselves. There has never been a greater reason to share a common hatred. There is no room left to retreat, so there is no need to retreat any further!"
Before Guangchengzi could speak, Chijingzi beside him calmly patted his purple