Upon seeing the newcomer, the withered-skin old Daoist was not startled but enraged. He bellowed:
"You wretched creature! How dare you ruin your master's plans!"
*WHAM!* Lü Zhong sent him flying to a broken wall with a single kick.
It was impossible to know how many of the old Daoist's bones that kick had broken, but he couldn't get up for the longest time. All he could do was groan as black, viscous blood pooled on the ground.
"Why don't you take a look at the 'good deed' you've done?" Lü Zhong said coldly.
Ever since the Bihai Sect had grown and his sources of information had expanded, he had read about no fewer than eight hundred, if not a thousand, such incidents in the sect's records—entire villages sacrificed to satisfy one person's selfish desires. He had long since grown accustomed to it.
