Everyone who saw this felt a chill run down their spines.
Yang Hao's voice trembled slightly as he spoke, "Holy Lord... Holy Lord is in Tianfeng Pavilion..."
He stammered and couldn't get the last few words out no matter what he tried.
"He went back to his old flame?"
Yang Zhifeng spoke up.
Yang Hao looked up at Yang Zhifeng with a mournful face, "Ancestor, we can't persuade him. The Holy Lord insists on going, and we have no choice but to accept it."
Yang Zhifeng flicked his sleeves and walked out with a cold face.
...
"How is things progressing?"
Inside the Wentian Tower, Zhou Mu looked at Fang Yun standing to the side and said.
Upon hearing this, Fang Yun said expressionlessly, "They are too arrogant during the day, and the defenses are tight. We can only wait until night when they are less vigilant."
Zhou Mu nodded. "That's good, fewer casualties. By the way, if you face Chen Tai'a, do you think you have a chance of winning?"
"none."
This answer is simple and clear.
After saying this, Fang Yun remained silent, ignoring everything Zhou Mu said.
It was as if they had lost contact; they just stood there blankly, lost in thought.
At this moment, Zhou Mu couldn't describe the feeling in his heart.
He didn't know whether establishing the Black Ice Platform, this assassination organization, was a risky move. Ten days was too short a time to take any effective measures.
Fortunately, there is some good news: Lu Shan, who is also a time traveler, is on his side.
Two otherworldly beings with cheat-like abilities, surely they can outmaneuver the natives of this world?
If that's the case, then can it still be called a fantasy novel?
Thinking of this, Zhou Mu's lips curled into a smile.
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