"Even if you're utterly loyal to the Great Chief and think you can stay neutral—what about the First Young Master and Third Young Master? What will they think in their hearts?"
"Will they think you're standing on Young Master Dan Zhu's side?"
"If they become Great Chief in the future, will they trust you?"
"Can you really pull yourself out of this swamp?"
Mo Hua's words were patient and persuasive, low and carrying a strange magnetic pull.
Chi Feng's face grew uglier and his expression ever more grave.
But after all, he was a battle-hardened commander; he didn't actually follow Mo Hua's line of thought all the way down. Instead, he suddenly lifted his head, his gaze like a sword as he looked at Mo Hua:
"These things don't seem to be matters a Shaman should be concerned with…"
Chi Feng had slaughtered countless foes; his sword‑sharp gaze, laden with Evil Qi, was enough to make the vast majority of people shudder. Even a Golden Core cultivator might not dare meet his eyes.
