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... and the Hundreds Races Alliance, in order to fan the flames of discord between Wang Jixuan and the Thousand Generation Alliance, deliberately paused their campaign against the Alliance to exert pressure on the Immortal Slaughter Palace.

At this subtle moment, Sword Dance dispatched two Golden Immortal Elders to deliver a handwritten letter to the Alliance Hierarch of the Thousand Generation Alliance.

The contents of the letter were supposed to be known only to Murong Zhengyi.

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

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