The messenger had made a lot of promises to everyone three days ago. They looked powerful and reliable, so he believed them. Clearly, he had been bamboozled.
He had been taken for a gullible elder and robbed of his life's savings by selling him fake insurance. Now he was running for his life because the Olympic Sect didn't fulfill the promises they made, so he was understandably angry.
'I hope they die in a ditch somewhere, and I hope their Dao Lord meets a worse end. I hope that Dao Lord who calls himself Ragnarok gets kicked to death by a donkey.'
'Then I hope their corpse gets desecrated. I want the donkey to rape the corpse again and again before stomping it to pieces.'
He was really angry, and the only method he had to vent was to describe the awful things he hoped would happen to his deceiver. So he went on and on, taking his sweet time to conjure humiliating deaths for the Olympic Sect's founder and that ugly messenger.
