Central Capital, Wenchang Pavilion.
"Mad! The Barbarians have gone mad!" Minister Wen Zhou Zuofeng stared at the densely packed red dots on the light screen before him. He kicked over the table, and his surging aura scattered his official cap.
"Minister Wen, calm down, calm down!" Deputy Pavilion Master Leng Hanbing hurriedly tried to persuade him.
"How can I calm down?" Zhou Zuofeng pointed at the light screen. "That Barbarian Emperor has teleported over at least another tenth of his tribe's strength, and he still hasn't stopped!"
"At this rate, even if they slaughter their way through Great Xuan, how long can that Barbarian Emperor hold out?"
"At most, it'll end in a惨胜—a victory so惨 it will be no victory at all!"
"Besides, we still have the power from beyond the heavens to await."
"Are the Barbarians willing to destroy their entire race just to fight humanity to mutual ruin?"
Leng Hanbing sighed. "Yes. I can't understand the Barbarian Emperor's intentions either!"
"Fighting like this—is he planning to trade homes with humanity?"
"But as long as the Northern Border doesn't collapse, once the Outer Heaven Sacred Clan returns, everything else will be floating clouds."
Zhou Zuofeng sank weakly into his chair. "Whatever their plans may be, our people have fallen into a desperate situation..."
Leng Hanbing gazed at the radiance and began calculating with his fingers, but Zhou Zuofeng interrupted him at once. "There's no need to calculate. I just checked."
"Based on the rate at which the Barbarians are teleporting over, Great Xuan needs sixteen Half-Saints and a hundred Great Scholars whose strength matches the Barbarian Gods and Barbarian Shamans being teleported here before we can maintain even the minimum level of safety."
Leng Hanbing fell silent for a moment. "Only the Demon Race remains."
"The Demon Race..." Struggle