“Hurry up! Bring out all your best wine.” Kilostar and Bertulu were seated facing to each other on an oceanic island, a stone table in front of them.

On one side was the skinny and swarthy Kilostar, dressed in that silver cape of his. On the other side was a white-robed, white-haired youth. The two had completely different looks and auras as well. Kilostar’s aura was rather valiant and explosive, whereas Bertulu’s aura was much warmer and more radiant. He was like the warmth of the sun, bringing comfort and friendliness to all who saw him.

“That’s more like it.” Kilostar grabbed the gourd of wine that had appeared on the stone table, lifted it up high, then began to guzzle it all down.

“Alright, alright. There’s no need for you to be this angry, Kilostar.” Bertulu let out a laugh.

“You insidious, sly, hypocritical wolf in cultivator’s clothing!” Kilostar glared ferociously at Bertulu. Even his third eye within his forehead was bulging with rage. “I have NEVER fallen down from the fifth stratum. It was all because of you! You deceitful bastard, I lost because of your tricks! That was bullshit! Bullshit! BULLSHIT!”

Bertulu chortled. “You lost, alright? Even if I did pull a few tricks, the end result was that you lost. In battle, the only thing that matters is the result. The process isn’t really important.”

“I trusted you! That’s the only reason you...

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