Until not a blade of grass grows, and all things wither and die!
His actions undoubtedly cut off his own retreat.
Baili An held the heart in his hand, a smile playing on his lips, and calmly said: "Master Zangxin, your lies are countless, but when you said 'you have hope in me', I think that might truly be genuine.
You hoped to mold me into someone like yourself.
You would hold the most basic respect for yourself, so the one standing here is your unique true self."
Zangxin was almost driven insane by Baili An's gaze, even the madwoman Demon Lord couldn't push him to such an extent.
At this moment, he was entirely out of strategies.
He hadn't died in the Immortal Venerable Zhu Zhan's century of purging demons, nor had he perished in the treacherous struggles of successive Mohe replacements.
He hadn't died in the era of the Immortal Path's prosperous rise.
He had lived for thousands of years, yet now he was to die at the hands of his prey, what a mocking absurdity!
