In James Walker's world, there were only two distinctions: Edward Morgan, and everything that was not Edward Morgan. Grace Cooper was one of the "not." More than eighty years had passed, and every time Grace Cooper saw James Walker, she felt a toothache—this man was becoming her inner demon.

However, she was a woman who grew braver with every setback; how could she let such a trivial matter hold her back?

Just as Edward Morgan suspected, his subordinates' loyalty stemmed from his immense power, and they were always thinking of ways to pull him down from his pedestal. Grace Cooper was exactly such an ambitious woman.

She leaned in close to Edward Morgan, her voice soft, like a temptation from the abyss: "Honored Lord, you already possess strength and power—don't you desire anything else? That Lily Harris is truly a pure girl. Would you like me to help you win her over?"

Grace Cooper didn't notice that as soon as she finished speaking, the color drained from James Walker's face. He stood rigidly by the wall, like an emotionless puppet.

Grace Cooper knew she lacked the charm to seduce the Honored Lord, but it didn't matter. As long as Edward Morgan was willing to feel, his guard would weaken, and wouldn't that give her an opportunity?

"Grace Cooper," Edward Morgan pressed his palm on Grace Cooper's head, not gentle in the slightest. The force felt as if he might crush her skull with one hand. "I've always admired your ambition and let it grow unchecked. I don't even mind if you direct your schemes at me."

"Heh, heh, the Honored Lord is most magnanimous." Grace Cooper was so frightened she didn't dare breathe.

Edward Morgan's tone hardened: "But don't overestimate yourself. Use your ambition on the righteous path. I'm still waiting for the great battle between good and evil to improve my strength."

The Path of Slaughter—every advancement in power came through battle. At Edward Morgan's current level, fights among mortals were no longer of any help to him; only conflicts that involved the entire cultivation world would suffice. This time, the righteous sects were launching the attack, and Edward Morgan intended to use this opportunity to break through his limits.

"Yes, yes." Grace Cooper felt a sharp pain on the top of her head, several warm streams of blood trickling down her forehead. Any thoughts she had just vanished completely.

Seeing that the lesson was enough, Edward Morgan withdrew his hand. James Walker handed him a handkerchief, and Edward Morgan wiped the blood from his fingertips before tossing the handkerchief to the ground.

Grace Cooper didn't dare wipe her face. With blood streaming down, she said to Edward Morgan, "I will do my utmost to gather information. The day you return from the Ten-Thousand-Mile Icefield will be the day the great battle between good and evil begins!"

"And one more thing: do your best to make William Carter utterly devoted to you. I want Lily Harris to give up on that man," Edward Morgan said.

"Yes!" Grace Cooper's hair came loose, and she bowed her head like a ghostly woman.

After a while, when there was no more sound in front of her, she looked up to see the two men had left. Only then did she plop down on the ground, patting her chest in lingering fear.

After treating her wounds, she saw from upstairs that William Carter was hurrying by, heading toward her house. Grace Cooper sneered inwardly—hah, men, so impatient. His junior sister had just left, and he was already coming over. Couldn't he wait a few days?

Still, it was men like this that gave her a sense of accomplishment. The Honored Lord and the Left Protector...

Grace Cooper shook her head, forcing herself to forget the painful experience and focus on dealing with William Carter.

Edward Morgan led James Walker to the entrance of the Ten-Thousand-Mile Icefield. Seeing how pale James Walker looked, he took the initiative to hold his hand. As expected, it was as cold as a corpse of ice. He said, "I'll go in alone. Your body is cold; you can't stand the chill. Wait at the entrance."

James Walker looked out at the endless icefield and shook his head. "It's said that a rogue immortal lives in seclusion here, and it's extremely dangerous. I must follow you, Honored Lord."

"I order you to wait here," Edward Morgan said.

"I would never deceive you, Honored Lord. Once you enter, I will follow."

Stubborn as a sword that doesn't know how to bend, and so honest it moved Edward Morgan.

Edward Morgan extended a finger, slashed his own wrist, and held it out to James Walker: "The Path of Slaughter may be despised by the righteous, but it is the path of ultimate yang. The hot blood, the heroism, and the awe-inspiring killing intent unleashed when hundreds of thousands of men clash in battle—all fill my blood with yang energy. If you drink some of my hot blood, my power can protect you as you travel through the icefield."

"Honored Lord, you're hurt. How could I possibly..." In James Walker's emotionless eyes, a trace of pain appeared.

"The demonic sword is cold. In the icefield, you can't achieve unity with your sword. Do you want me to save you? Besides, whether you are worthy or capable is for me to decide. What right do you have to say you are unworthy or incapable?" Edward Morgan said. "If you refuse, I will seal your powers and leave you at the entrance."

Blood slowly dripped from his wrist. James Walker closed his eyes in pain, then opened them, gritted his teeth, and leaned in to drink the hot blood from Edward Morgan's wrist.

A warm current surged into his dantian. Edward Morgan used his true energy to stop the bleeding, squeezed James Walker's fingers, and, feeling they were finally warm, nodded in satisfaction.

James Walker's expression was a bit unnatural. He touched his now-warm chest, feeling a strange sensation in his heart. This was wrong—the Honored Lord's sword should not have thoughts of its own.

He suppressed that chaotic feeling. Facing Edward Morgan in silence, they waited for ten days before Lily Harris finally arrived, long overdue.