Jiang Ping An swept his gaze over the corpses on the ground, his eyes calm and undisturbed.
With a wave of his hand, he opened the Devouring Space and sucked in the Black Mountain Tribe warriors' bodies, along with the crudely fashioned weapons in their hands that had been made from exceptional materials.
The materials used for these weapons would have been considered supreme treasures in later generations. Yet now, they had merely been crudely ground into the shapes of stone axes and bone spears. It was truly a reckless waste of heaven's gifts.
When he had the time, he would definitely remelt these materials and forge them into true divine weapons. Giving them to Great Lake Village would greatly strengthen the village's ability to protect itself.
It could be considered a form of repayment to them.
Until their deaths, the Black Mountain Tribe members never imagined that Jiang Ping An, whom they had so easily "scared away" last time, would possess the strength to kill them in an instant.
How could they have known that Jiang Ping An's retreat last time had not been born of fear?
He had merely arrived in this unfamiliar ancient world and remained cautious of it. Before understanding the situation, he had not wanted to stir up unnecessary trouble.
But this time, these people had come looking for trouble themselves, their killing intent laid bare. He could only send them on their way.
The Black Mountain Tribe people had astonishingly powerful physiques by nature, comparable to ferocious beasts of the same realm. In a pure contest of physical strength, they were even stronger than Jiang Ping An.
But Jiang Ping An had never intended to clash with them head-on.
He directly employed Soul Power, ignoring their hardened shells and attacking their comparatively fragile souls.