Footsteps came from behind. Wu Qiming didn't dare turn his head, but his desperate will to live forced a strained smile onto his face.
"Mi… Miss, as long as you don't kill me, I guarantee I can satisfy any request you have. Gold Coin, status, power—anything!"
Even though he couldn't see Wu Qiming's face, just from that trembling voice Xue An could imagine his expression must be quite a sight.
He had already expected this.
After all, for someone who's long been pampered in a lofty position, nothing is more important than his own life.
He was curious about only one thing: as a red-robed Archbishop, Wu Qiming was at least high-ranking in the Palace of Light, so why was his strength so utterly mediocre?
But these thoughts flashed by and vanished, because Xue An simply didn't have time to waste on this kind of person right now.
He just slowly walked up behind Wu Qiming and raised his hand to pat the back of his head.
