"How strange, this Great Demon, whom I've been chasing to the point of desperation, has had no time to foster the rise of a sect. Yet, why has the fate of the Great Spirit been decreasing instead of increasing lately?" The expression on the Spirit Emperor's face was somewhat ugly.
Qin Muye, in his eyes, was like a slippery loach. As long as he got a firm grip, the other party would be doomed, but the problem was that he couldn't get a grip. The other party was just too slick, especially after their fate had strengthened, and they could almost always sense his approach in advance, sometimes even misleading him.
There were even a few instances when he almost lost track of the other party.
"Zong Zheng, have there been any anomalies?" The Spirit Emperor asked an old man.
The other party was the Zong Zheng of the Royal Family, roughly equivalent to a clan leader, usually played by an elder of great virtue lacking actual power, serving mainly as a mascot.
