From his first move to the sudden turn of events, and finally the execution, Hun Tiandi's entire sequence of actions flowed in one seamless motion, so smooth that the others had not even been given time to think.
Even when he severed one of his own arms, he showed no hesitation or concern, as though the one injured was not himself.
Such ruthless methods sent a chill through everyone present.
"A warrior cutting off his own wrist, yet remaining utterly expressionless. What a terrifying man."
The ancestors of the various clans hiding within the tombs stared at the scene before them in shock, a trace of despair surfacing in their eyes.
If they became enemies with someone like this, did their clans truly possess anyone capable of standing against him?
After a long while, Xiao Xuan finally could not help breaking the silence. He tentatively asked, "You old bastard, your arm—"
"It is nothing."
Hun Tiandi smiled and casually put away the pitch-black severed arm. "Using one arm of this incarnation to contain the undead spirits that have fallen within the Heavenly Tomb over tens of thousands of years can hardly be considered too great a loss."
"Unfortunately, this incarnation of mine has suffered too much depletion now. I fear it does not have much combat strength left."
Hearing this, Xiao Xuan's mouth twitched, and he could not help rolling his eyes—
This old bastard was as full of himself as ever!
With just the arm of an incarnation, he had suppressed the Soul of the Heavenly Tomb's self-destruction as easily as crushing an ant, and had even claimed the other party's accumulation of tens of thousands of years for himself.
Yet such gains, which even Xiao Xuan would not dare imagine, were dismissed by him with a light remark