The Peony King was troubled about this.
...
Master Wang could sleep now, yet his opponents were restless, debating various strategies.
To fight or not to fight, that was the question.
On the Dark Sect's Treasure Ship.
Cang Ze sat in the main seat, leaning against the Heavenly Dao Stele, which had been shrunk to resemble a chair cushion, with his eyes closed, resting.
Among the batch of experts just sent by the Dark Sect, there were six old Golden Immortals, all of whom were loyal to the Dark Sect and had been baptized by the Heavenly Dao.
They sat in the chairs beside Cang Ze, remaining silent.
Behind the screen, Master Zhi Hui was holding a small cauldron, continuously absorbing the cloud mist emanating from it, his injuries still unstable.
Aside from these eight experts, there was only one Heavenly Dao Envoy, Hei Yao, who sat at the far end, also silently with his head down.
An old man asked in a deep voice: "Four Sect Leaders, what are they saying?"
