"Haha." The Sixth Prince gave a cold smile. "Mr. Mo, you're too modest. If Eighth Brother and his group perish here, you'll have earned the highest merit."
The middle-aged man's expression changed, but he still smiled. "Your Highness the Sixth Prince, rest assured. With so many Spirit-Devouring Blade Birds, even a group of Earth Martial Artists would be overwhelmed and die in these woods, let alone a few mere Martial Artists. It is my honor, Mosen's honor, to be of service to Your Highness the Sixth Prince."
The Sixth Prince glanced at Mosen, a smile playing on his lips. "Mr. Mo, no need to be nervous. If Eighth Brother and his group die here, it will just be an accident caused by a Demon Beast stampede. No matter what, the blame will not fall on you, Mr. Mo."
Mosen's gaze was steady, but he did not speak.
