The Spirit Race Emperor Lord finally made his move. Space instantly collapsed, and countless fleeing cultivators were wiped out in an instant. Wuji, too, was blasted deep into space by that fierce finger strike.
As for the spatial passage, it was completely shattered beneath such overwhelming power.
Upon the altar, every living being turned to nothingness. Not a single one survived.
The Spirit Race's plan had ultimately ended in failure.
Elsewhere, upon discovering that the altar and passage had been destroyed, the cultivators swiftly withdrew from the battlefield.
Deep within the Endless Sacred Domain, a spatial rift suddenly appeared. Soon after, the battered Wuji emerged from it.
Wuji's face was pale, blood stained the corner of his lips, and his aura was chaotic. He had clearly suffered severe injuries.
Had it not been for the protection of his Dao-Protecting Secret Treasure, his soul would have long since been scattered.
Even so, his injuries were not to be taken lightly.
The power of a Supreme Expert far exceeded anything he could resist.
His survival this time had been entirely due to luck.
If he encountered the Emperor Lord again, the outcome would be grim.
With a wave of his hand, dozens of figures emerged from the space within his palm. They were the remaining Saint Emperors who had narrowly escaped, including the Female Saint Emperor familiar with him.
Wuji led the group of Saint Emperors away from the Spirit Race base. Feeling the long-lost spiritual energy of heaven and earth in the Endless Sacred Domain, they all began tending to their injuries.
The Female Saint Emperor gratefully thanked Wuji. Wuji said there was no need for courtesy before swiftly returning to the Floating Sacred Realm.
He no longer had the leisure to concern himself with the safety of the other Saint