Above the Nine Heavens, wind and thunder roared in fury.
The God Lord's face was livid as he stared at the Heavenly Chief Envoy, who had fled back alone, utterly distraught. At last, he could no longer suppress his fury. "Shen Yun, you brat! You've pushed me too far!"
They said nothing should happen more than three times, yet he had fallen at Shen Yun's hands four times in succession, each defeat more disastrous and humiliating than the last. He was nothing but a clown hopping about the stage!
As for the Heavenly Chief Envoy, covered in blood and filth, he still could not stop trembling. Cold sweat poured down his back.
So close. He had been so very close.
He would have perished in the sword qi storm alongside those unfortunate comrades, becoming yet another soul who had died a senseless death.
Can my lord... really defeat the Creation Heavenly Venerable?
That treasonous thought grew wildly in his heart like weeds, impossible to banish.
Petty men feared might, not virtue.
After being thrashed again and again, he had become a bird startled by the mere twang of a bow. He no longer dared speak Shen Yun's name directly, afraid it would bring the Fate Heavenly Sword down upon him.
"Retribution is not absent; its time simply hasn't come... God Lord, your doom is here!"
The Jianmu Sacred Spirit spoke slowly. Seeing the master and servant thrown into such disarray brought a peculiar sense of satisfaction.
Even the most benevolent saint could not endure imprisonment for endless years and every manner of humiliation, much less the God Lord extracting the essence of the spirit's sacred blood to slaughter common people everywhere and commit his atrocities.
Now, seeing Shen Yun unleash his divine might and beat that old monster into such