"Kill him!"
"Slaughter that wild chicken!"
"Xingxuan Wuji, start with a win and take him down!"
The earth-shaking cries swept through once more after the twin swords. The Divine Tomb Cult disciples' heartless torment of Li Tianming reached its peak at this moment!
Every cold, teasing, mocking remark was like countless swords and daggers stabbing toward the white-haired youth in the sky!
Mocking smiles, taunting expressions, and icy faces all bore contemptuous ridicule. It was written across all their faces—especially Mu Dongli's. Though she stood below, her bearing was high above the clouds, looking down upon Li Tianming's laughable struggle!
Li Tianming could hear and see it all!
So grating, so blinding!
Again and again, he had told himself that at this stage, his enemies could only be the Imperial Clan specter gods who had sent him onto this battlefield. They should not have been the Divine Tomb Cult. Yet so many things in this world were destined to be nothing more than wishful thinking!
No one would refrain from slapping your face just because you were honest and well-behaved!
On the contrary, the weaker a person was, the more they were bullied!
The more overbearing and lawless someone was, the better they lived!
As the insults, laughter, and indifferent stares swept toward him, a hole had been punched through Li Tianming's chest, yet a volcano was brewing within!
Even if he was now the greatest joke at this Divine Emperor Banquet, with only An Ning and the other two silently weeping for him, at this moment, his gaze changed. His will changed too.
"Brother Li!"
Amid that tide, Xingxuan Wuji saw Li Tianming rise again, and his expression changed as well.
But it only became slightly impatient.
It was the look of someone who had grown tired of playing.