Wang Jian's smirk widened. "Oh, but it is over. I've taken everything from you—your armies, your allies, your power. Look around you. You stand alone in the ruins of your ambitions."
Jiang Chen, struggling to maintain his composure, spat back, "You underestimate us, Wang Jian. You may have won this battle, but we will rise again."
"Rise again?" Wang Jian repeated with a mocking chuckle. "From what? The ashes of your failure? The only reason you still draw breath is because I find it amusing to watch you struggle. Killing you now would be too easy—where's the fun in that?"
Huang Zhi, his handsome face twisted in fury and humiliation, shouted, "Is that why you haven't killed us? Because you pity us?!" His voice was hoarse with rage, and his eyes glinted with the madness of someone who had lost everything.