"And now, you're the only one left."
Having killed Qinghan Venerable, Yang Xiao turned to face the gloomy-looking Yun Aotian.
This Peak Powerhouse from the Profound Celestial Sect was a man of high status and great authority, one of its leading figures. He had always been decisive and ruthless, but at this moment, he had become the very type of person he most disdained and looked down upon.
Indecisive, timid...
Now, as Yang Xiao's gaze fell upon him, Yun Aotian wanted to fight, but he couldn't summon the courage.
His strength was considerable, more than a notch above Qinghan Venerable's.
But unlike Qinghan Venerable, who had been over a hundred years his junior, the roughly three-hundred-year-old Yun Aotian was far more terrified of death. Extremely so.
So, when he saw Yang Xiao seemingly preparing to point his sword at him, a stiff, sycophantic smile crept onto his not-so-aged face. "Young Master Yang, there's no deep-seated hatred between us. Must we take things this far?"
