Amidst the multitude of wild gods and immoral sacrifices in Cold County, disregarding their own divine and demonic dignity, they flattered with abandon, like small lackeys fanning sedan chairs.
Tao Buddha's son found himself at a loss between laughter and tears from the flattery.
He sighed inwardly: Surely, those who survive in this chaotic world have their own survival tactics.
Unless something unexpected happens, these flatteries must have already been directed at the Seven Slaughter Bodhisattva, or they would not have survived the previous massacre of the city.
He thought that was it.
But who would have thought that just the next day, it would suddenly change.
A dense cloud of blood drifted over from the horizon.
The earth trembled, clearly indicating a large army was approaching Cold County at great speed.
Before even a silhouette appeared, the familiar sounds of battle cries were already transmitted over.
