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Niu Ben paid no attention to Ananda's face, which had instantly turned uglier than a bitter melon.

His gaze merely swept calmly over everyone present.

Anyone touched by his eyes—whether a Demon Cultivator from Northern Darkness Palace, an Asura from the Blood Sea, or a disciple of the Western Teachings—felt as though their Primordial Spirit had been clenched in an invisible giant hand.

A terror rooted in the deepest Origin Essence of life itself made them breathe with utmost caution.

"Get lost. All of you."

Niu Ben's voice was calm, without a trace of joy or anger.

Yet to those present, those two words were no less than the Heavenly Dao's sacred decree—a supreme pardon.

Ananda was the first to react. He did not dare utter a single word of courtesy. After deeply bowing to Niu Ben, he mounted the Ninth-Rank Golden Lotus of Merit and shot away in a streak of golden light without looking back, fleeing faster than a rabbit.

What a joke!

If he did not run now, was he supposed to stay and wait for this lord to settle accounts?

They had just fought the Mystic Gate disciples to the death, and this lord's protectiveness of his own was famously notorious!

With Ananda taking the lead, the remnants from Northern Darkness Palace and the Blood Sea also felt as though they had received a royal pardon. Each wished their parents had given them two more legs as they scrambled and crawled away into the depths of Purple Mansion Immortal Court.

There was not the slightest unwillingness in their hearts.

Only the relief of having survived a calamity.

With Saint Niu Ben personally stepping in, forget trying to seize the Dragon Head Staff—they were not even qualified to take a second look at it.

Keeping their lives