Chapter 48: Refusing to Be a Sycophant, Revealing the Truth

“What’s going on?” Jiang Liufang hurried over to the two, her gaze sweeping over their faces before settling on Zhou Linyao. “Zhou Zhiqing, if you don’t want to be in the same team as Mu Zhiqing, I can switch you out right now—”

“I’m not switching!” Zhou Linyao mumbled, still with her head bowed low, her expression hidden from Jiang Liufang’s view.

Not only did Mu Wanwan find Zhou Linyao strange today, even Jiang Liufang felt something was off about her.

She thought to herself.

He immediately ordered the entire army to advance. Since the enemy was already prepared, there was no point in launching a surprise attack. They would simply press forward with full force, openly and squarely.

The group left the wooden cabin and, after walking for more than twenty minutes, arrived at a forest where Linxia ginseng was cultivated beneath the trees.

“I’m fine. One of my team members was injured,” Aurélien glanced back at his comrades, all puzzled as to why he chose to return to Askerro despite still being capable of fighting.

If the chaotic bell’s embryonic form had absorbed it, perhaps this low-grade innate spiritual treasure could have been upgraded.

They were the joint leaders of the Ironworks and Magic Tool Foundry, more familiar with production and allegiance capabilities in the region.

If they hadn’t known that such divine beasts had already become sentient and could recognize their masters, they might have already considered claiming the Purple Qilin for themselves.

The Blood Clan had always maintained a tenuous connection with the outside human world—a fact even acknowledged by the watchers of the Demon Realm.

“He even said something to him? They’re clearly just toying with us,” Liu Kun said indignantly.

Clary finally understood why the Holy Church’s army regarded the Demon Realm as hell. Even human slaves in the mortal world were not subjected to such brutal schedules—working over twenty consecutive days with only one night’s rest.

At that moment, the carriage happened to arrive near the street by the White Hawthorn Theater. Qiao Xiu drew back the curtain and pointed toward the gigantic poster plastered outside the theater.

Shen Muqing didn’t bother with formalities toward Granny Zheng and called for Mingxia to grind the ink, then wrote out a list of the missing items.

Judging by the servants’ attitudes, it was clear the elders had given some instructions. To some extent, the servants’ demeanor already reflected the elders’ stance.

Pigeon soup, stir-fried fern with pork slices, assorted tofu, flower mushroom duck feet, lightly fried quail, vegetarian fried eel strips, fresh pea shoots... the rice was Bigen variety—the meals were quite well-prepared.

“Xiao Sa!” Shen Muqing called out stubbornly, just as she heard someone cough softly outside.

Circling around several stones, she had thought the evil shadow only knew how to follow and attack from behind. Unexpectedly, at that moment, three evil shadows separated and moved toward the direction she was preparing to escape.

Previously, no one had noticed the bedraggled Yun Moyue, but as soon as that person spoke, everyone instinctively glanced at her. Their focused gazes fell one after another on Yun Moyue.

“Magneto,” Eric had the power to manipulate the magnetic fields existing in the world, but unlike Bai Qi, who had cultivated the “Sea Tiger Martial God” cosmic realm’s “magnetic field rotational force,” Eric did not possess electromagnetic extrasensory abilities or a series of other superpowers.

“Maybe it’s because it’s never found what it truly likes?” Ding Che almost choked out the words.

“Heavens... oh heavens...” No one expected such a shocking twist, and all stood dumbfounded.

Long Fei and the others didn’t see anyone piloting the Time Vessel, but a faint buzzing sound reached their ears. It was clearly not a motor sound, and Long Fei had no idea what powered the device.

Hearing the call, Ye Qianmo quickly turned back and saw a tall figure standing in the distance, hair as black as ink, eyes gentle, lips slightly curved into a smile—her heart stirred involuntarily.

Love need not be petty, but if one side’s scale tips too far, hope is lost. A heart without hope will one day grow weary and tired.