For a moment, only the sound of crackling torches filled the room.
Then Hu San laughed coldly, his voice dripping with venom. "You dare to threaten me in my own hall?" His eyes glowed with savage light. "Do not mistake restraint for weakness. My brother's blood calls for vengeance, and if Feng Yun thinks he can hide behind that old cripple Sword Saint, he is wrong. I will see him gutted and nailed to the city gates."
The hooded figure shifted ever so slightly, but the pressure of his presence did not recede. "Do as you wish, Guild Master. But mark my words—if you act too rashly, you'll draw eyes we do not want upon us. Our plan in this city is delicate. Disturb it, and even your guild will not escape unscathed."
Hu San sneered but said nothing. His gaze was cold, his fury barely leashed.
