A green robe amid ten thousand armies.
On the battlefield, with the young Yin Guan holding an Iron Spear as its center, a vast blank expanse soon appeared within a radius of a hundred zhang.
The densely packed Demon Race troops kept crowding backward, clustering together like wave upon wave. Not a single demon dared strike first. There was not even any shouting—only retreat, then further retreat.
When the figure in green robes drifted down, there was no earth-shattering crash. When he stood upon the battlefield, beneath his feet remained that very battlefield.
Apart from the Demon Race Army, whose formation had fallen into disarray, the clashing of iron armor and weapons mingled with the deliberately hushed barks and reprimands of the supervising officers. Other than that, there was only the sound of heavy breathing.
Surrounded on all sides—perhaps this was what truly deserved to be called a lone army plunging deep into enemy territory.
A few glory-hungry demons occasionally wanted to draw their bows or pull their blades, to see whether they had a chance to kill this famed Yin Guan.
They were swiftly stopped by the demons beside them. Were they tired of living?! If they wanted to die, they should not drag everyone else down with them by catching that God of Slaughter's eye.
A man's reputation was like a tree's shadow.
Those who were not Savage Demon Race cultivators and had never fought against the Sword Qi Great Wall would never understand the true weight carried by the title "last Yin Guan."
This Savage Lands army responsible for luring the enemy had two commanders, one in the open and one in the shadows. Both were among the eighteen new Throne Holders.
The one in the open rode alone, with a Great Banner standing behind him. The