King Black Hand was excited, arrogant, and pleased with himself.
He had discovered that ever since Flower-Scatter Daoist Wang Quan planted a Divine Ability inside him, his luck had actually improved.
He led countless Evils in a sweep across the land, and wherever he went, scarcely any Evil could meet him head-on.
His ranks kept swelling.
But for some unknown reason, whenever his forces grew to a certain size, a traitor would inevitably appear.
The traitor would split off roughly half his forces, and the two armies would start slaughtering each other.
During the first battle, Black Hand thought he would lose.
After all, he was an illegal immigrant from the countryside, not a native at all.
Any random Evil here could crush him to death.
But to his surprise:
On the battlefield, he was an invincible monarch.
Countless Evils were torn apart by his fiercely loyal underlings before they could even reach him.
Moreover, as large numbers of Evils died in battle, he felt himself growing stronger.
When the war ended, more than a third of the rebels were dead, and the survivors rejoined his ranks.
By then, his strength was already several times more terrifying than that of the strongest Evil in his army.
Then he led the Evils onward, sweeping up other Evils into his ranks.
Once his forces expanded to a certain size, another traitor appeared, and the slaughter began again.
After this battle, he felt his belly grow bigger and his strength increase.
Black Hand rubbed his belly. "Legends say that when you get stronger, you go bald, and then your head gets pointy!"
"I don't have a head, so my belly gets pointy instead?"
"Forget it, I won't bother thinking about that. As long as I get stronger!"
The crow flew and the hare