At the center of the battlefield, blood sprayed through the air as countless roars rang out without end!
Gui and the others had already pulled away, watching from a distance. All they could say was that luckily they had not truly tried to stop Jiang Lin and kill him in his cradle.
Otherwise, in his current state, Jiang Lin would have picked them off one by one, fighting until one side was dead!
The Jiang Lin of now was like a mighty figure whose lifespan was nearing its end. If he could drag a few people down with him, he would drag a few people down with him!
Those who threw their lives away were generally the hardest to provoke on a battlefield—the kind even Demon Beasts would detour around after seeing them.
After all, he was going to die anyway. Why die alongside him?
But Jiang Lin was different!
No one could go around him!
Jiang Lin had to die! The sooner, the better!
Truly, you might never have imagined that such a situation could appear in a young man in the prime of his life!
Another punch! This punch carried the aura of the Great Dao and directly blasted apart a rocky hill!
Jiang Lin, already lost in a state of selflessness, failed to notice that when his fists became stained with blood and his body was riddled with wounds, the corners of his mouth actually curled upward.
It was as if, in this moment, there were no missions, no distracting thoughts in his heart, and neither death nor survival.
There was only his own fist! There was only his sword qi!
"Boy! It's not that I, Chen Huo, look down on you. A Martial Warrior places his life in his fists, but you're a Sword Cultivator.