A surging killing intent roiled in Ning Jiang's chest, ready to erupt at any moment.
His eyes turned impossibly cold, as if holding an ancient, biting wind. They contained not just indifference but also an indescribable, deathly stillness, like a frozen lake in winter.
He truly intended to kill!
When a Martial Artist's strength was lacking, they had to know forbearance, feigning weakness and enduring humiliation to diligently advance.
But with sufficient strength, one's character should be unyielding. They should slay gods who stand in their way, unrivaled under the heavens.
Shangguan Yu had injured him, cursed him as a little beast, and threatened that if Ning Jiang couldn't provide a satisfactory explanation after the Secret Realm, he would go to the Yanyue Sect and start a massacre. These things had already ignited the killing intent in his heart.
