Before Ye Xiwen, whether they were Quasi-Emperors or Imperial Sovereigns, none could withstand him. Imperial Sovereigns could block two more sword strikes, but only two more. Fundamentally, there was not much difference.
Ye Xiwen's Three Thousand Martial Daos were far too resplendent, like three thousand star rivers shining at once. At any moment, he could split off a vast number of Martial Dao Avatars. While these Martial Dao Avatars might not be able to do much to Imperial Sovereigns, to Quasi-Emperors and God Kings below the Imperial Sovereign realm, they were nothing less than a calamity that blotted out the sky.
These people could not even withstand a single strike from Ye Xiwen's Three Thousand Martial Daos.
Yet the Light Clan experts had no other choice. Other races could retreat, but could they? This was their clan's holy mountain, the core of their rise.
If Light Holy Mountain fell to Ye Xiwen, then half of the Light Clan would be scattered.
They said that as long as the green hills remained, there would be no shortage of firewood. But Ye Xiwen intended to burn even their green hills to ashes in one sweep.
Even so, before Ye Xiwen, they still amounted to nothing. They were slaughtered until they retreated step by step, blood flowing into rivers. Blood rain fell from heaven and earth, and the entire Light Holy Mountain was drowned in blood.
The mountain trembled, as though it were weeping.
"Ye Xiwen, die!"
On the other side, the Dark Shadow Emperor Lord had already lunged forward. His clan's elites had likewise been massacred by Ye Xiwen, and he had gone completely mad.
The long blade in his hand surged, transforming into tens of millions of shadows that slashed toward Ye Xiwen. He fought in a life-for-life manner, determined to