Wang Chuantian died with his eyes wide open, still gazing at him.
Those gray eyes, void of any trace of emotion or vitality.
Gurgle!
Zhou Chen was within the realm of swords, and with his strength, he could have broken out of it long ago, but the death of Wang Chuantian made him forget to escape for a moment. Now, as he gazed back at the whizzing sword lights moving back and forth and Wang Chuantian's eyes, he finally let out a bitter smile.
Sigh!
Zhou Chen exhaled a long breath, knowing he had no way to deal with the young man before him. He could only say reluctantly, "From the day the alliance is formed, every year, I, Nantian Holy Land, can offer your Daqian Dynasty ten spirits of longevity, and every year provide your Daqian Dynasty with one hundred qualifications to enter our Nantian Holy Land for cultivation..."
Ten spirits of longevity.
This was already a very generous offer.
It matched the terms of the Nantian Dynasty!
