Stomping on Holy Son Golden Crow's Face

The evening clouds had just withdrawn, the sun was gradually sinking, and the wind filled the tower before the mountain rain came—an impending storm.

Above Linglong Immortal Island, a fine drizzle was already drifting down. The Enlightenment Ancient Tree swayed in the wind, rustling softly.

The crowd of experts had chased after them, leaving only a few people to maintain order. The scene could not help but seem somewhat bleak.

The Demon Race camp, however, still had not moved an inch, as if they had already made up their minds to sit on the mountain and watch the tigers fight.

"I hope Huanxin can hold out a little longer. Best if they fight until both sides are wounded... then we can sit back and reap the fisherman's profit."

The Qiongqi Patriarch spoke grimly, his fangs slightly revealed. "Those madmen are so unbridled, slaughtering the Taotie Clan. They must pay the price."

The Pill Puppet Left Emissary, however, was not optimistic.

Just Gu Hanzhou alone was already difficult for them to handle, let alone the fact that this was Linglong Immortal Island's territory. If the other side fell into danger, there was no guarantee no one would make a move to help.

Thinking of this, he lowered his voice and said, "Right now, we are isolated and weak. I fear we are unequal to the task. We must think of a way to request reinforcements."

At the seats to the side, Holy Son Golden Crow sat silently upright.

Hearing this, his knuckles abruptly tightened, gripping the armrest until it creaked. "Golden Peng Holy Son was ambushed, and his soul suffered damage. The Golden Peng Clan is utterly overwhelmed by this matter and has no time to attend to anything else."

His voice paused, and his brows furrowed. "As for the Kun