The old man's chest heaved violently as he stared fixedly at Tuo Jie, who lay on the ground, utterly lifeless.
"Hahahaha... hahahahaha!"
Wild laughter erupted along the banks of the Blackwater River.
Clouded tears mingled with his laughter, grief and madness echoing through the cold, desolate reed beds for a long time.
It had all happened too quickly.
Mo Ang stood rooted to the spot, his pupils contracting sharply.
He glanced at the dead Tuo Jie, then at the old man laughing like a madman.
"Insolence! You dare commit murder before my very eyes!"
Mo Ang shouted furiously and thrust out his left hand, his five fingers hooked like claws as he grabbed for the old man.
Whatever else this Tuolong might have been, he was still his cousin.
He had come to seize him on his father's orders, only to have him killed right under his nose. It was nothing less than a resounding slap across the face of the North Sea Dragon Palace.
Whoom!
A Silver Spear swept out, forcibly blocking Mo Ang's grasping hand.
Mo Ang had to halt his attack and turned toward the person who had stopped him.
"Brother Lie?" Mo Ang asked.
"What is the meaning of this?"
Little White Dragon shook his head and looked at Mo Ang.
"Brother Mo Ang, don't be hasty."
Mo Ang's brows knitted tightly. "Whatever crimes Tuolong committed, his punishment should have been left to the Dragon Palace. This man dared assassinate a member of the Dragon Tribe before my eyes. He deserves death!"
Little White Dragon stood in Mo Ang's way and lowered his voice. "Brother! Tuo Jie committed countless evils. If he's dead, let him be dead. Why ruin our Dragon Tribe's reputation for his sake?"
He gestured toward the old man with his eyes.
Mo