The Black Tiger Yao staggered over.
It saw that Su Changsheng was already waiting at the entrance, his back turned to it, silent.
The Half-Demon White Snake before it was clearly only five meters long, less than a third of its size.
Yet merely standing there, quietly radiating the pressure of his demon power, he made the Black Tiger Yao's heart sink and its limbs turn cold.
A seventh-level king!
White Snake King Xi!
Who in the entire outer layer of the Black Mountain Demon Stockade did not know him?
Even the Black Tiger Yao, uninvolved in worldly affairs as it was, knew this king at the very pinnacle. After all, he managed the Wolf Pack's outer territory and enjoyed the Wolf King's high regard.
It had once considered him a mortal enemy standing in the way of its plans.
"White Snake King Xi, I'm crippled and on the verge of death. I pose no threat to you. Fallen leaves return to their roots-can you let me die at home?"
The Black Tiger Yao sighed, its voice actually carrying a trace of pleading, just as Su Changsheng had once humbled himself and wagged his tail for mercy to survive.
The once-supreme overlord of the Black Mountain Demon Stockade's outer territory had fallen to such a state. How pitiful, how lamentable.
At this moment, none of its unruly arrogance remained. It was merely a dying yao longing to return home.
Yet Su Changsheng gave no answer either way.
He still stood with his back to the Black Tiger Yao, his hands clasped behind him, gazing at the place that haunted his heart, his expression unfathomable.
Through this enormous stone house, he seemed to see himself when he had first transmigrated here, bowing and scraping before the Black Tiger Yao, tearing out