Chu Qing carried eight black banners on his back and walked forward step by step.
He was not fast; each step carried him two thousand meters.
Then:
Within a thousand-meter radius, every enemy whose killing intent soared to the heavens had their flesh explode and their sinews and bones shatter.
Nine out of ten died on the spot; the rest were grievously wounded.
Streams of turbulent air exploded and sprang into being beneath Chu Qing's feet, then transformed into Air Dragons that swept forward and to either side, tearing apart one unlucky soul after another.
These Heavenly Court cannon fodder were not afraid of death.
They had enjoyed the Heavenly Court's Attendant offerings for centuries, even nearly a thousand years.
Now was the time for them to die.
If they were torn apart by the Air Dragons, they could only blame themselves for being too weak—even the sound of the other party's footsteps had been enough to crush them.
Yet when they saw their companions inexplicably explode, their sinews and bones snapping apart, they could not accept it.
Chu Qing had clearly not made a move, yet within a thousand meters, some had died and others had been wounded.
How could this be?
What kind of bizarre attack was this?
The people behind them, filled with endless doubt, burned their Spirit and Energy and their lifespans even more frantically as they charged in to kill.
"Let me see just what bizarre methods this fellow possesses."
Then, they rushed into the thousand-meter range around Chu Qing—and exploded.
The sky trembled.
In the distance, a seven- or eight-meter-tall Blood and Flesh Realm giant charged over with a group of heavily armored cannon fodder.
"Kill!"
The heavily armored cannon fodder leaped past the Flesh and Blood Giant and pounced at Chu Qing first.