Bai Zihan stood tall amid the battlefield, his torn robes fluttering in the wind, one hand gripping Zhao Yue like a discarded rag doll.
Li Xuan lay crippled behind him, bloodied and groaning in pain.
He looked at the battlefield.
Although his father had an advantage, the same could not be said for the other elders, who were suffering at the hands of the Li-Zhao Alliance.
(Would threatening them work?)
If one were to look logically, Li Xuan and Zhao Yue's value wasn't enough to stop something like a battle for the Immortal Emperor's Inheritance.
But they weren't something that the two Clan Leaders could ignore either.
(Anyway, I would lose nothing by trying.)
The wind carried his voice—sharp and clear, amplified by Qi.
"Li Jianhong! Zhao Wutian!"
He called, of course without respect, addressing them by name.
They naturally paid attention to him when he called them out.
"Tsk! Trash!"
