Two incense sticks later, despair shrouded the Extreme Cold Abyss.
Jia Huan stood motionless, his inner qi severely depleted and his entire body exhausted, his sleeves snapping in the wind.
Nineteen wounded bodies lay around the lake, each barely clinging to life.
Fifteen old bastards and four peerless young prodigies.
Jia Huan closed his eyes to recover. Half a quarter-hour later, he walked toward the one-eyed old man, now crippled by the loss of an arm.
He fixed his gaze on the man and demanded sharply:
"Was Great Qian's Commanding Commissioner Jiang Wuyuan colluding with the Zhishi Clan?"
The one-eyed old man's face was ashen. Boundless hatred blazed from his remaining eye, and he gave a savage laugh without speaking.
Jia Huan swept his gaze over the other old bastards.
They, along with the four young men, had similarly contorted eyes and hysterical expressions.
Jia Huan strode over and crushed the hooked-nosed man's skull beneath his foot, his voice chilling:
"If you send me away disappointed, I will never leave Northern Mang. Day after day, I will slaughter members of the Zhishi Family and subject them to every torment imaginable!"
"If I get what I want, I won't go to Northern Mang's capital."
"You have three breaths to decide."
"Three!"
The one-eyed old man's face trembled.
"Two!"
The eyes of every old bastard nearly split with rage, and they could scarcely breathe.
"I'll talk!" the one-eyed old man rasped.
"Good."
Jia Huan nodded, gathered his strength, and struck with his palm. The hooked-nosed man's corpse hurtled away, crashing into the other seventeen in succession.
All seventeen died.
Only the one-eyed old man remained in the abyss.
Driven nearly mad by hatred, he writhed with overwhelming grief and crawled laboriously toward his wooden hut.
Jia Huan followed.
The panel in his