Qi Yuan sneered. "A natural-born King Beast who occupies the entire Middle East Plain by himself, with a century of accumulated power… How could he possibly die so easily?"
"Didn't you suffer a loss at his hands as well?"
"My plan was flawless, the trap seamless, but I underestimated his vigilance."
He raised his wrist. A few wisps of black gas floated from his palm before he clenched it into a fist. A look of false grief crossed his face. "As expected of an old fox who's lived for over a hundred years. So cunning. I lost ten whole Advanced Demon Seeds on this venture and nearly paid with half my life. Still, it's not like he got off easy."
At this, the black-haired youth laughed again—a brilliant, wild laugh. It seemed that simply knowing his opponent had suffered was enough to bring him joy.
After all, that bastard had tried to kill him with his own hands all those years ago.
