Everyone who saw the Seventh Elder floating midair paled. Their breaths hitched and color drained from their faces as they kept their heads lowered. A bead of sweat rolled down their temples, then another, until their whole bodies were covered in sweat and they trembled in fear.
"L… L… Leader… I-I was going to—" the Seventh Elder attempted to speak, but his nervousness tangled his words. His voice cracked like dry glass.
The clan leader did not blink and continued looking coldly.
"Tell me, do you know the meaning of this mark or not?" The leader pulled up his sleeve, and if Wang Ming had seen the symbol, he would have instantly recognized it as the white skull symbol that the members of the Black Church had on their bodies.
"Y-Yes, Leader," the Seventh Elder said with a swallow, and there was even greater fear toward the symbol among the members than toward the leader himself.
