Advice?

The Main Hall was silent.

Below the throne, a black mass knelt on the ground. Xie Sen was among them. Aside from his paler face and more violent trembling, there was nothing particularly unusual about him.

Yet Beo seemed to have forgotten his original purpose. His gaze remained fixed on Xie Sen, as though he were pondering something.

A dignified Evil Fall Emissary actually cared so much about a piece of trash from the Evil Horned Tribe?

Youming's gaze wandered between the two, and the suspicion in his heart deepened. He asked in a grave voice,

"Beo, do you know this trash?"

"No. I was merely a little surprised."

Beo snapped back to his senses, shook his head, and casually pointed at Xie Sen.

"How could a mere little fellow at the seventh tier possibly be worthy of entering your 'Underworld Blood Palace'?"

"Just curious?"

Youming did not believe him at all, yet he could glean nothing more from Beo's face. He could only turn his gaze and glare fiercely at Xie Sen.

"Trash, raise your head!"

The cold shout boomed beside his ears.

Xie Sen shuddered and hastily raised his head, his expression filled with confusion and helplessness.

"You really don't know him?"

Youming's brow furrowed even deeper. He could not tell whether Beo was lying, but Xie Sen would never be able to hide anything from his eyes.

He did not even need to ask. A single glance was enough to see through him.

"Youming, your suspicion is still as heavy as it was before!"

Beo sighed, a faint smile curling across his lips.

"He's just a little fellow at the seventh tier. What sort of scheme could I possibly arrange on him?"

Those words sent a chill through Xie Sen. His entire body began trembling instinctively.

"Trash!"