Qin Fengming did not hesitate. Following the old man's words, he moved and flew out of Lan Yin Valley with the first group.
Outside Lan Yin Valley, people from various small sects and cultivation Lineages had already filled the area. There were more than a thousand of them, scattered within a dozen or so miles of the valley's exit, all craning their necks and waiting for the cultivators connected to them to emerge.
To these small cultivation Lineages and minor sects, the quota for Banner Wielder of Yellow Springs Palace represented a chance to greatly increase their family's or sect's strength. To the major powers above the third-rate sects, however, it was hardly worth mentioning.
Ten quotas for those capable of advancing to the Ghost Commander realm were naturally insignificant to the major sects.
It was precisely for this reason that the struggle for the Banner Wielder quotas of Yellow Dao Sect had attracted over a thousand small Lineages and sects to spend enormous sums on sending cultivators to participate.
Of course, most of the cultivators who entered Lan Yin Valley were still the numerous Rogue Cultivators who aspired to enter Yellow Springs Palace's secret realm and seek their opportunities.
Looking at the crowd, Qin Fengming could not help feeling a little sighing. He knew that many Lineages and sects were about to be bitterly disappointed, because the contest in Lan Yin Valley had been far too bloody. The cultivators who had died at his hands alone already numbered twenty or thirty.
After leaving Lan Yin Valley, Qin Fengming merely swept his gaze around and immediately spotted the two Supreme Elders of Eight Extremes Sect.
He did not go over to greet them. Instead, he stood in the distance and moved his lips slightly, transmitting his voice:
"Sorry for the