Outside Puzhi Temple, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense.
Wei Dongliu coldly surveyed the assembly of monks, silent.
He could not make a move, for his current identity was that of a Demon Lord. If he acted and failed to kill all the monks instantly, his mysterious persona would collapse.
The Flying Asura bowed its head with a sinister chuckle, also remaining silent.
It, too, could not make a move, for it teetered on the brink of evolving into a drought demon. Revealing even a sliver of its aura would invite a Heavenly Tribulation.
The monks in green robes glared in fury, yet held their tongues.
They could not make a move either, as reinforcements had not yet arrived. They couldn't rashly deplete their strength here, offering their enemy an opportunity to exploit.
The monks in Blood Robes stood silent and sinister, without a word.