"My life?"
"You eleven, is that what you're here for?"
Ye Qingchen stood with his hands behind his back, staring directly at the eleven top Demon Celestial Immortals from the Western Wilderness. His expression was indifferent, making it impossible to discern his emotions—whether he was frightened, shocked, fearful, or something else altogether.
"Exactly!"
Daoist Monarch Bai Gu, dressed in a black robe, looked at Ye Qingchen with a faint smile:
"Do you think we are like those fools from the Thirty-Six Sects of the Celestial South, who raise a tiger only to invite disaster?"
"We eleven had already devised a strategy since you agreed to the duel with the Eight-faced Buddha. If the Eight-faced Buddha had won, all would be well. But if he lost, we would have to eradicate the threat at its root. Otherwise, once you recover from fighting the Eight-faced Buddha, we would be next on your list!"
