"Dead..."
"Dead..."
"He just died like that?"
"An Earth Supreme?"
It was a long while before someone finally asked in a low voice.
Yet, in an environment quiet enough,
even a whisper was piercingly loud.
In a sense, this shocking fact was simply too overwhelming. Even when viewed across the entire Myriad Heavens, during the cruelest years of the ancient war, Earth Supremes had never been disposable cannon fodder found everywhere. They were the backbone of the battlefield, forces that had begun to grasp their own destinies and could serve as generals and officers.
Cultivators below the Supreme Realm
were, during the brutal ancient war,
equivalent to the old, weak, women, and children in a non-supernatural world.
There was no need for a chaotic army to charge at them. Just a few idle thugs could rob them of all their supplies.
It could be said that they had no ability to resist whatsoever.
A very small number of cultivators did.
But even that depended on those exceptional cultivators being at the Three Small Tribulations stage of the Supreme Realm and having comprehended the foundations of Spatial Power in advance. Only then could they possibly deal with some Supremes.
Such cultivators were often hailed as geniuses.
More than ninety-five percent of them were young people.
As for why there were no particularly old geniuses...
To be honest...
The Extraterrestrial Evil God Race was not stupid either...
They could not simply stand by and watch the Human Race's rising generation grow stronger batch after batch...
Thus, they often employed assassination tactics.
Before these geniuses could mature, they would eliminate them cleanly and decisively.
Therefore, under such circumstances—where they would spare no cost and sometimes even sacrifice several Supremes merely to kill a single Human Race genius—the living environment of Human Race geniuses