Sheepbeard Mountain, halfway up.
The Death Fighters were running back and forth, delivering messages.
They occasionally buried some special items in designated spots.
At first glance, their busyness seemed orderly, but if you observed longer, you'd notice a sense of discord in each person's movements, not stiff yet definitely uncoordinated.
Upon closer inspection, each face wore a complex expression.
Some were resigned, others angry...
But no matter what, they couldn't escape control and could only act obediently according to the Imperial Decree.
Counting roughly, it seemed there were over a hundred people.
On the altar, the white-haired youth stood with hands behind, indifferently watching the busy crowd.
Outwardly calm, but inwardly inevitably emotionally fluctuating.
This Second Young Master Hu still didn't understand how the situation had suddenly changed to this?
Such a great situation, collapsing overnight?
