With the matter of Xiao Tongquan thoroughly discussed, neither Jiang Yi nor Li Ruohan spoke again. They sat in silence for a good while, a shared sense of sorrow and unease hanging between them—the rabbit mourning the fox's death.
'Illuminating the Dark, True Gu, and even Qing Chi from before that... these Branch Sect Dharma Lineages devour people whole, not even spitting out the bones.'
Jiang Yi's thoughts drifted. Under the rule of the Demon Dao, it didn't matter if you were a commoner as insignificant as a weed or a precious Direct Lineage member from a Qi Cultivation Clan. In the eyes of an Upper Cultivator, there was little difference.
The former could be manipulated at will, and the latter could only endure it obediently, unable to even utter a word of protest.
Sometimes, they might not even realize they were being twisted and kneaded, just like puppets on a stage, with no control over their movements or destination.
