The Emperor was furious.

Several women knelt on the floor quivering in fear.

After letting out his frustrations, the Emperor composed himself.

He sat on the sofa and lit a cigarette.

He devised this plot to kill James.

Now, not only was he not dead, he had even performed a great service for Sol.

With greater fame and prestige, it would be even harder to kill him now.

James had to die.

Smoking his cigarette, he thought of ways to finish James off.

“Looks like I need to turn to that old man for help.”

After a long while, the Emperor murmured.

He stood up hastily. “Prepare the car.”

The Emperor left the Capital and headed toward a mountain in the suburbs.

The mountain was called the Five Monasteries Mountain, named for the monastery at its peak.

The Emperor headed to the top of the mountain.

In a room of the monastery…

There was a meadow, on which a 70-year-old-looking man sat. Wearing a white robe and white hair and a white beard, he exuded a sagely aura.