A moment before

      Qi Rong was breathing heavily, gritting his teeth and still holding the head of the messenger who had brought him the news to the floor.       With something bordering on a guttural roar and scream, Qi Rong dug his claws deeper into the neck and glared at the crowd of demons so wildly that some of them even retreated, trembling in fear. Soon, the ragged breathing turned into uncontrollable, heart-rending laughter.       — For the third time! — Qi Rong abruptly tore the head off by the kicking demon with a disgusting squelching sound, accompanied by a pig-like squeal. — He’s gone for the third. Fucking. Time! — He threw the head against the wall with all his might, leaving a trail of blood drying on the stones, and contemptuously shook the clumps of hair from his palm.       Qi Rong slowly straightened up, still laughing, and turned his face, hidden behind a terrifying mask, to the rest of his henchmen, who were now huddled together.       — Report any movements of Xie Lian to me personally. Everyone! — he growled and quickly moved towards the exit of the cave. His nerves were on edge, and he barely had time to rejoice that he would not see his brother again before he climbed up again! Why this time? What could be simpler than sleep? Because of his beautiful eyes?       In this commotion, no one even noticed the silver butterfly fluttering near the ceiling.