<h4>Chapter 1784: Chapter 1784: Cleaning House</h4>


    Demarco Mount descended.


    The day just broke.


    Four people sat on the rocks, each busy with their own tasks.


    An old man sharpening a sword, a young girl putting on makeup, a middle-aged man meditating, and a muscr man making a phone call.


    "Damn Terry Moore! Why does my phone keep receiving texts from casinos? Did you go to some strange website?"


    "Karen, I just used your number to browse some educational videos. No worries, just ignore it." Terry Moorey on the stone, a de of grass in his mouth.


    "And what about the shampoo bottle being reced with hair removal lotion?"


    "Bald equals strong, right? Brother Karen, long-distance calls are expensive. Well, I used up your shampoost time and was afraid you’d ask me for money, so I poured the remaining hair removal lotion into it. You wouldn’t..."


    As he spoke, the de of grass fell from Terry Moore’s mouth.


    "Let me count, how many are left. One, two... Damn Terry Moore, I will skin you alive!"


    From the phone, Karen’s roar echoed.


    "I am fine here with Sister Isabe Warm, the Imperial Master is also helping us. Okay, love you, hanging up."


    Terry Moore touched his own head.


    Having hair feels so good.


    "Throughout this journey, we haven’t reported back to the Saint Lord; I guess he’s worried about us too."


    Isabe Warm sighed.


    After rescuing the Imperial Master, they headed straight for Demarco Mount.


    "The Saint Lord is quite worried about us, but Karen said, the Saint Lord married two wives from the Caldwell Family, twin sisters."


    As soon as Terry Moore finished speaking, Isabe Warm dropped her lipstick on the ground.


    "Sister, don’t overthink. Maybe the Saint Lord misses you too much and needs to distract himself."


    "Or maybe he thought you had an ident and found you two younger sisters?"


    Plop.


    Isabe Warm’s makeup mirror fell onto the stone and shattered.


    "What if... what if the Saint Lord..." Terry Moore became a bit flustered.


    "Ian Jorden, from now on, every time he speaks, cut off his tongue." Isabe Warm said expressionlessly.


    "Alright!"


    Bzzzzzt.


    The long knife scraped across the stone, sparking a re.


    "Little girl, do you like the Saint Lord?" The Imperial Master turned, asking with a smile.


    "Maybe... a little bit." Isabe Warm lowered her head, her face blushing down to her neck.


    The most outstanding man in the world, who wouldn’t like him?


    "You are very sincere." The Imperial Master put away the sword, sitting cross-legged, eyes slightly closed.


    "Senior, why do you ask? What’s your intention?" Isabe Warm couldn’t help but feel curious.


    Throughout their journey, she found the Imperial Master wasn’t a bad person.


    In fact, there is no distinction between good and bad in this world.


    Everyone is driven by their interest.


    Isabe Warm betrayed Pendleton; in truth, Pendleton was the traitor.


    Yet from Julius Reed’s perspective, Isabe Warm is just following her heart, forsaking darkness for light.


    The Imperial Master harbors no animosity towards Julius Reed; he despises the Emperor even more.


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    The man who took everything from him and suppressed him in Swimming City.


    "Thousands of years ago, the turnover rate of maids beside the Saint Lord was swift. Often within decades, they’d already turned to dust."


    With eyes still closed, the Imperial Master slowly spoke: "But you living till now proves the Saint Lord values you greatly."


    "But... others are the same, aren’t they?" Isabe Warm didn’t feel surprised.


    Though those maids before her did indeed leave Demarco Mount in their thirties and faded away silently.


    But the earliest Eliezer Pine lived for a long time.


    Not dead yet.


    "The Saint Lord doesn’t favor immortality," the Imperial Master said calmly: "Yet for you all, he made exceptions. You have to know the ideology the Saint Lord defended back then was this world. Killing the Undead, even imprisoning the Emperor, stemmed from this belief."


    "The Heavenly Dao cycles through birth, death, sickness, and old age. If humans were immortal, this world would be filled with ughter! Undead, in pursuit of their interests, would plunge this world into chaos. Future generations wouldn’t have space to survive."


    "To my knowledge, the leader of the Ghost Martial Tribe was killed for this very reason."


    As the Imperial Master spoke, his eyes suddenly opened.


    Hundreds of meters away, a team rushed toward them.


    The other party seemed to notice them as well and immediately turned extremely alert.


    "Who are you?" the leader asked, approaching.


    These people were all dressed in ck, wearing ck masks.


    Only two eyes exposed.


    But Isabe Warm clearly saw, the eyes of those people were white.


    Undead Tribe!


    "I’ve been waiting for you." The Imperial Master stood, raising the longsword, speaking coldly.


    "Us? Ha, what do you mean?" The leader seemed to disdain the Imperial Master, thinking he was just an ordinary martial artist.


    "To kill you." The Imperial Master spoke calmly.


    "What a joke, do you know who we are?" The masked manughed, right hand stealthily resting on the waist sword handle.


    Ready to draw his sword at any time.


    "Of course I know." The Imperial Master, wearing a yellow robe, slowly raised his longsword. "You are members of the Undead Tribe,ing to Demarco Mount yearly to empower the Emperor. If I’m not wrong, the car behind you should be loaded with Spirit Grass."


    The previously mocking masked man’s body instantly tensed!


    "Who are you now?" Asking the same question again, the man’s tone had changed.


    With a hint of panic!


    And fear!


    "I’ve said, the one who kills you." The Imperial Master spoke lightly.


    Undead Tribe merely has strong recovery abilities; simrly, this makes their physique stronger.


    However, to live requires strength.


    A person, starving for years, will also perish.


    The Imperial Master understood this clearly.


    The Emperor learned the immortality technique from him.


    Every year, or half a year, someone muste to provide spiritual power to the imprisoned Emperor.


    With the supply, they can live with strength, ready to escape at any moment.


    But there are certainly guards where the Emperor is held.


    Going directly to deliver spiritual medicine would not only be dangerous but highly likely to expose you.


    The Imperial Master cannot kill the Emperor; he doesn’t have the Break Sky Knife.


    The only way to weaken the Emperor is to cut off the spiritual power supply.


    But within decades, the Emperor can still be alive.


    He just will live very painfully.


    Just like the Imperial Master suppressed by the Nine Cauldrons.


    "Brothers, prepare for battle!" The masked men quickly formed a formation, like facing a major enemy!


    They’ve been secretly transporting for thousands of years, never discovered before.


    "Your transportation mission ends here."


    The Imperial Master drew his sword.


    In an instant!


    Countless sword shadows shed through the forest.


    Those ordinary undead warriors immediately turned into blood mist, never having a chance to heal again.


    The originally present team seemed to vanish into thin air,pletely gone.


    "From now on, I will purge the door." The Imperial Master sheathed his sword, his cold voice like frost.


    Bone-chilling.


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