"Since you know my purpose, bring it out. I know you're worried that you'll die if you do, but I can assure you that as long as you hand over the Spirit Sword, you won't die."
Huai Shian still had his eyes closed; since Lin Hao had entered, his aura, which had been wild, gradually calmed down.
Cultivators are almost indifferent to life and death, especially those like him who have reached the zenith of power; they hardly have any real brothers or friends.
For him, the Mingyang Sect was what mattered most.
So was the Spirit Sword.
Anyway, Lin Hao was already trapped like a turtle in a jar.
"I promised the Lan Family that I would spare your life, so there's no need for you to worry about your own safety. All I want is the Spirit Sword," Huai Shian continued.
"Huai Shian, I didn't come to deliver the Spirit Sword," Lin Hao's mouth curled into a smile that seemed quite comfortable,
