"Take a guess." Willard didn't answer. Instead, he took another sip from his flask.

His cultivation had been sealed, but his strength came from the wine in his hand. The wine was refined with valuable herbs and contained dense spiritual energy, which he could absorb and convert into combat power.

In short, every sip made him stronger. Even with his cultivation sealed, he could still execute powerful techniques.

"It's the wine, isn't it?" Garrett's gaze landed on the flask, and a quick realization set in. Willard drank before and after every attack, which hinted at something suspicious.

"Bingo. But no prize for you." Willard smirked and launched forward with a palm strike aimed at Garrett. Though his strength wasn't at its peak, the attack remained a deadly threat to the already injured Garrett.

"Mr. Styles, save me." Garrett knew he had no chance of blocking it and cried for help.

"Go to hell, traitor!" Hank saw the internal commotion unfold and threw a powerful punch at Willard