"Come on! Come on! Every last one of you will be buried here today!"
Luo Chen's savage laughter rang with unbridled defiance, as though he were venting something.
And he was.
Since returning to the Eastern Wasteland, he had repeatedly displayed his power before others, amassing a formidable reputation.
But only he knew how carefully he had to weigh every move and every decision.
He had to mind the smallest details of dealing with others and guard against enemies watching from the shadows. Above all, Ming Abyss Holy Land pressed down on him so heavily he could barely breathe.
For Luo Chen, who had spent a carefree century in the Northern Sea, it was stifling.
He sought longevity for the freedom to live as he pleased.
With every step taken so cautiously, where was the freedom? How could he live as he pleased?
Under the weight of the times, even Nascent Soul True Persons, once so far above everyone else, seemed to have become cannon fodder to be thrown away at will.
And now a few demons dared to boast that they would capture him and take him back!
Even Luo Chen's long-tempered composure could not keep his fury from blazing.
His attacks grew more ferocious.
Two Nine Camphor Deer charged from left and right. Luo Chen neither dodged nor retreated. He spread his hands, turned his surging blood and vitality into Source Power, and punched to either side.
It was the Mountain Breaking Form of the Devil Monarch's Seven Scattered Hands!
"Break!"
"Break!"
Driven by tremendous force, the two Nine Camphor Deer could not withstand Luo Chen. Their massive bodies flew backward beyond their control.
"Trying to run?"
Luo Chen did not pursue them. His gaze locked on Di Tu, whose arms he had broken.
He stamped down hard,