The Might of the Netherworld Hall

Whoosh—

The cold wind howled past, blowing away the dust. The Dragon Emperor lay amid the ruins as if bathed in blood, covered in wounds and utterly miserable, as though he could stop breathing at any moment.

Wang Ci floated high in the air, looking down at him with a cold smile. "Who would have thought that the famed Dragon Emperor would end up like this?"

After entering the Central Wasteland, the Dragon Emperor had once been incomparably magnificent. Unfortunately, he had kicked an iron plate in the form of the Netherworld Hall.

In truth, Wang Ci admired him as well, but an enemy was an enemy. If he did not deal with him ruthlessly, how could he establish his authority?

Therefore, the Dragon Emperor had to die miserably. Wang Ci wanted to trample him before countless people and warn the entire world that those who opposed the Netherworld Hall would meet no good end!

With that thought, Wang Ci reached downward with his right hand and made a grasping motion through the air, directly dragging the Dragon Emperor up.

Bringing the Dragon Emperor with him, he swiftly returned to the stone platform and threw him beside Wang Jian and Li Si.

"Tsk, tsk. A generation's Dragon Emperor has fallen into such a sorry state!"

"He still doesn't know his own place. He refused to lower his head even after encountering the Netherworld Hall. He deserves it!"

"Wang Ci has gone too far!"

"Even the strong should retain some dignity in death. What the Netherworld Hall is doing is truly inhumane!"

The cultivators pointed and discussed among themselves. Some mocked him, while others pitied him, but no one dared speak too boldly.

Pointing at the Dragon Emperor, Wang Ci laughed loudly. "He is the Dragon Emperor, a madman of his