Haotian Won't Hit Me, Will He?

Unless Niu Ben's cultivation had already surpassed that of a Saint.

But that was impossible, wasn't it?

Niu Ben's face remained utterly expressionless.

He merely let out a soft, indifferent snort.

That faint snort was like an edict of pardon.

The terrifying aura pressing down upon Haotian, upon the entire Lingxiao Treasure Hall, and upon the hearts of all the immortals and gods vanished without a trace in an instant.

"All of you, leave this place."

Niu Ben's voice rang out again, still carrying that calm tone, as though he were speaking of some trivial matter.

"Haotian and I have some matters to discuss."

To the immortal officials below, who had nearly been scared out of their wits, those words were nothing less than heavenly music!

"Yes! Yes! We shall take our leave! We shall leave at once!"

The few immortal officials nearest him sprang up from the ground as though their backsides were on fire, scrambling and tumbling as they rushed toward the doors of the Great Hall without daring to look back.

At that moment, they could no longer care about anything—not immortal bearing, not the majesty of the Heavenly Court. All of it had been flung beyond the Nine Heavens.

They had only one thought now: escape.

Escape this place.

They would rather return and face Haotian's wrath than remain here for even one more second!

With someone taking the lead, the remaining immortals and gods surged toward the gates of the Lingxiao Treasure Hall like a tidal wave.

For a time, shoving and cries of alarm rose and fell one after another.

The scene descended into utter chaos.

Yet Niu Ben, seated upon the dragon throne, did not so much as lift an eyelid.

These immortals and gods, no different from ants in his eyes, were