Ling Feng, his gaze a bit dazed, was just dumbly holding Tuoba Yan's corpse, sitting on the ground.
He felt that his eyes seemed about to be scorched, and the vertical pupil on his forehead was hot like magma. The intense pain, along with the melancholy in his heart, nearly turned him into a walking dead.
"Hmph, don't you want revenge?"
The old man in the black robe slowly descended before Ling Feng, his face still adorned with the gruesome ghost mask.
"Perhaps you're unaware, but all of this was orchestrated by me. It was I who instructed Lin Canglang to kill Lin Xian'er, and it was I who threw out Tuoba Yan! Keh keh keh!"
The old man in the black robe seemed to be narrating some kind of glorious feat, his voice filled with a mocking laugh.
"It was you!!!"
Ling Feng slowly raised his head, both eyes—or rather, all three pupils—burning with the flames of anger.
"Yes, it was me!"
The old man in the black robe laughed sinisterly, "How does it feel? Not very pleasant, right!"
