"They have simple hearts and long-buried anger. Stir it, show them the illusion of irresistible support, and they will gamble everything..."
"Once civil war splits their halls, Paxton will be too busy saving his throne to face us. We either reap the spoils or storm the sect while they bleed. If Jared Chance returns, he'll find only ruin waiting for him."
Hearing this, Sheldon let the idea sink in. A heartbeat later, a twisted smile carved across his face, sharp, delighted, merciless.
"Brilliant! Turn his own blade against him, yes, that is the taste I want! Gather elders and disciples skilled at concealment and persuasion. Load them with treasures and promises. Send them into the Myriad Beast Mountains tonight. Let Paxton have a taste of his own medicine. Make sure Jared never gets to return!"
"At once, sir!" the elder cried, bowing before streaking away to arrange the covert mission.
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