As soon as either side's Dharma Manifestation Realm warrior showed the slightest sign of movement, the other would immediately move to stop him.
Their expressions were indifferent, as though the slaughter before them had nothing to do with them.
Su Fei stood inside the wooden shelter on the small slope, quietly watching the brutal slaughter between martial sects before him.
Flesh and blood flew everywhere. Severed limbs littered the ground, and robes were stained with blood.
The disciples of both sects fought fiercely, one after another. Some fell into pools of blood before they had even seen what their enemies looked like, becoming sacrifices in their sects' struggle for profit.
He sighed inwardly: this was the martial world, this was the cruelty of struggles between sects.
These ordinary disciples fought for their lives, battling amid blood. In the end, even if they won this conflict and occupied the Mount Awn Mine, the only ones who truly benefited would be the sect leaders and elders high above them.
For their sects' interests and their own power, those people did not hesitate to sacrifice countless disciples' lives. Yet these disciples foolishly believed they were serving their sects and defending their sects' glory. How tragic that was.
Li Xing and Zhang Yi stood behind Su Fei, watching the slaughter. They wanted to try mediating, but could do nothing.
They had long grown accustomed to scenes of slaughter like this. Their strength was limited, and they could not stop this conflict at all.
Su Fei watched for a while.
Suddenly, he moved, soaring into the air like an arrow released from a bow. In an instant, he flew above the battlefield and hovered in midair. The pressure of the Dharma Manifestation Realm swept down from him like a tsunami, instantly enveloping the entire battlefield.