Of course, there was one exception to this—Ye Xiwen. Able to disguise his aura at will, he could pose as an expert of the Fallen Angel Race and move among the Devil Race without fearing that anyone would recognize him.
While everyone else was running themselves ragged for their lives, he could instead stroll leisurely through the Demon World.
As the Demon World exerted its strength, the many geniuses could no longer slaughter as freely as they had at the beginning. Their scores rose far more slowly now, perhaps by only a hundred or a thousand points every day or two.
Barely a month had passed, yet around ten of the top hundred on the Hundred Names List had already fallen. It was truly cruel beyond measure. None of those ten had been ordinary; all had been the finest talents of the human race. Though there had certainly been differences in strength among them, every one of them had stood head and shoulders above the rest. In the past, losing even one would have caused their respective factions immense heartache. Now, however, ten had been cut down as if they were cabbages.
Some had even been captured by the Devil Race and subjected to the Soul Searching Great Art, allowing the Devil Race to thoroughly grasp the human side's intentions.
In the past, it would have been one thing if they had merely been ordinary death warriors. Such warriors were troublesome, but they held little value, for they were simply people who regarded death as home.
But things were different now. Those who had entered were not death warriors, but a group of peerless geniuses—the top young talents of this generation of humanity. If they all died, it would mean a gap of several hundred years in the human race.