Heated Debate

The Psionics around them all nodded, indicating that the Speaker was telling the truth. That slightly balding, bluish-skinned man really was not one of the Speaker's subordinates.

Su Ming clicked his tongue.

"Enough. Hand over the babies, and take the crystals."

Symak wanted to say something else, but Tanith stopped him with a look, and he swallowed his words again.

At that moment, the Elder who had gone out to chat with Hela, as well as the Elder who had gone out for oxygen, were brought back in and placed in their chairs again.

The horse-like Elder in particular had turned from a white horse into a camouflage horse, his entire body covered in wounds of different colors.

As though nothing had happened, Hela tossed the men back beside the table, then wandered over to a distant sofa and lay on her side. She propped up her head with one jade-like hand, looking ready to sleep.

Hela had this habit. If she could sit, she would not stand; if she could lie down, she would not sit. She always chose whatever took the least effort.

Among all the Hell Lords, only her throne was a cushioned couch, and she curled up on it every day.

The Speaker ordered his men to bring the babies over. His life was now entirely in someone else's hands. Without the crystals, even if he managed to leave, he would perish in space.

He could only gamble that Deathstroke would keep his word.

Taking advantage of the time, Su Ming turned his gaze back to the two Elders who had returned to the hall.

"Have you thought it through now?"

"Yes, yes." The Equinoid was the first to state his position. His bared-teeth expression was rather amusing, but his eyes were brimming with tears. "My