The leaders of the Five Spirit Tribe said in unison, "Alliance Leader, the Human Race is shameless! They actually killed the chief envoy and gravely wounded the deputy envoy. This is utterly despicable. Please dispatch troops. An attack on the Human Race is imperative."
Shakyamuni frowned at the unconscious Mo Yu before him. "Take Mo Yu to my room first. Saving him takes priority. As for everything else, we can discuss it later."
He kept feeling that something was suspicious.
However shameless the Human Race might be, they would not kill an envoy.
After all, even when two nations were at war, envoys were not to be killed. That was the rule.
Otherwise, would they not have to fight to the bitter end, until one race was exterminated?
Such a war would be far too cruel, far too brutal.
This had been the rule since ancient times.
Apart from the Fierce Beasts Kalpa, no conflict had ever seen envoys killed.
Unless a nation or race was far too arrogant, killing its envoy as a sacrifice to the war banner meant fighting that race to the death.
Did the Human Race truly intend to stake everything on one desperate struggle?
He simply could not understand where the Human Race found such confidence.
What strength did they possess that they dared to throw everything into a fight against the Ten Thousand Races Alliance?
What exactly had happened? It seemed he would have to wait until Mo Yu woke up.
Mo Yu's condition was extremely strange. His soul hovered on the verge of drifting free, utterly disoriented and unable to communicate.
Naturally, there was no way to learn how the fighting had gone.
He could only wait for Mo Yu to regain consciousness.
He clapped his hands lightly, and a dark figure soon