Death of Bamboo Saint

Within that wooden courtyard of Bloodshed God Palace.

There were currently two figures seated opposite of each other. They were both drinking and chatting happily. One was the Bloodshed God Emperor who had a black bird on his shoulder, and the other was a muscular man who was wearing a loose robe and a face full of beard stubble. Even as he sat there, this muscular man was vaguely giving off the strange feeling that caused the surrounding world to collapse; it felt like every single action of his could easily tear apart this world.

"Are you convinced?" Bloodshed God Emperor laughed, "It isn't baseless for the Primal Master to rank me first."

"I thought that I could defeat you this time, but I still lack by a bit. Bloodshed, you have cultivated so much later than me, yet why do you know so much?" That muscular man with beard stubble continued drinking in depression as he said. He was quite unhappy.

This muscular man seemed honest and straightforward.