Qin Ming wore a smile and behaved politely.
This gentleness, in Hong Dao's eyes, seemed like the mockery of a victor.
He wished he could strip this person of flesh and bone, burn his Life Soul, and use it as a Bright Lamp in his cave mansion, refining it for five hundred years to dissipate the resentful energy in his heart.
Qin Ming casually asked, "Taoist, your aggressiveness is quite intense, could it be you're a Demon Cultivator?"
Now he was in the body of the Insect Emperor, the evil aura emanating from his bones, paired with his current composure and restraint, felt like a nonchalant overlook.
Hong Dao's eyes were ashen, looking up at the sky with a sense of despair, he said, "Fate is unfavorable, the victor becomes the king and the defeated the bandit. Why is the vast heavens so biased against me?"
He paid a heavy price to reach this shore, was it all just to be mocked?
