This made Yi Chen's brow furrow slightly. He could not quite fathom what the Demon Lord was trying to do.
He thought for a moment, then asked the middle-aged man, "Where is the Demon Lord?"
At his question, the middle-aged man hastily shook his head. "I don't know either. The Demon Lord is cultivating in seclusion somewhere, and he only appears once every few years. His movements are incredibly mysterious. Even as the steward, I have no way of keeping track of him."
There was a hint of panic in his voice.
"He's in seclusion? What is he doing in seclusion?"
Deep confusion flickered in Yi Chen's eyes. He kept feeling that the Demon Lord was certainly not cultivating in seclusion, but plotting some conspiracy instead.
"I don't know! The Demon Lord has always been like a divine dragon whose head appears but whose tail is never seen. I'm only a steward. How could I possibly know his movements?" The middle-aged man shook his head and spoke bitterly.
"Hmph!"
Hearing the middle-aged man's words, Yi Chen snorted coldly, his expression darkening.
"In that case, die!"
He abruptly raised his head and fixed an icy gaze on the middle-aged man. A purple Thunderbolt blasted forth, striking viciously toward him.
"No... don't kill me... don't kill me!"
As the purple arc of lightning slashed toward him, the middle-aged man's expression changed drastically, and he let out an utterly shrill scream.
Bang!
The arc struck the middle-aged man's body, annihilating his flesh in an instant. He turned to drifting ash and vanished.
At the sight, a cold smile appeared on Yi Chen's lips.
"The Demon Race really is sinister and vicious. They'll stop at nothing to achieve their goals, with no regard for anyone else's life!" Yi Chen murmured, then turned his gaze