Sun Wukong cracked his eyes open, watched Flea fly away, and cursed before chasing after them in a fury.
The Demon Court.
Demon God Dijun looked down at his trusted ministers and said majestically, "Since the decision has been made, let it be so."
"Guiche, Chitie, Feilian."
"Your servants are here!"
"You will lead this mission. Our primary tactic will be a surprise attack, so we must not send too many. I order you to prepare two squads of the Demon God Guard and ten squads of the Demon Emperor Guard."
"As you command."
After speaking, Dijun turned to the Demon Master. "Where is Kunpeng?"
Kunpeng's expression chilled, then became impassive. "Your servant is here."
"This mission must not fail. You will have overall command, with particular responsibility for matters concerning the Witch Race. Help our allies, the Angel Race, withdraw, and prevent any mishaps."
"In addition, keep an eye on Guiche's operation. If anything goes wrong, you must provide support."
Kunpeng remained expressionless. "Yes."
Inside, however, his anger blazed. Just listen to that. Were those words fit for a demon?
The attack on the Angel Race had been handed to the Witch Race. If it succeeded, I would take the blame; if it failed, there would be no escaping a charge of incompetence.
Three mid-stage Void Dao Realm cultivators couldn't handle a single warehouse center, and I still had to back them up?
Was a failed operation my fault too?
A while later.
Flea returned to the Demon Court and launched into an elaborate speech before the assembled Demon Emperors.
In Flea's telling, everything had been their idea, while Sun Wukong had merely supplied a tiny, insignificant piece of intelligence.
A flicker of disgust crossed the faces of the Demon Emperors. The Demon Race preferred straightforward dealings, not slick