Ordinary Players Looked at Ding Ling as They Would a Deity, Gazing Up at Him, Worshiping Him, and Burning with Fanaticism.

Ding Ling looked at them as if he were seeing his past self: frail and ordinary, unable to change the greater tide of events, only able to drift with the current.

Now.

He was powerful enough.

Every word and action could easily change the course of the world, let alone the greater trends of a nation.

Thus.

He had already become the players' guiding star.

Wherever he was,

the players would generally swarm there.

Of course.

Rational players would not blindly follow him. In their words: "Wherever there are opportunities, there will inevitably be enormous risks. If you want to play it safe, don't choose to join Ding Ling's faction in the early stages. Wait until Ding Ling has settled everything and unified the Three Realms before joining. That is the safest choice!"

Of course.

They also knew that joining early meant greater risks and greater opportunities. If they waited until the later stages, the Nine Provinces Divine Sect might not even accept players anymore.

But for some players who chose the path of survival above all else, they would absolutely never join while the risks were enormous.

Ding Ling knew nothing about this.

After flying eastward, he moved like a streak of lightning and raging fire. In the blink of an eye, he had torn through countless miles of sky.

After some time,

Ding Ling arrived outside the territory of Shushan once again.

Once again, he saw the Demon Cult members gathered there.

When those Demon Cult members saw that Ding Ling had actually returned, they wailed like ghosts and scattered like birds and beasts.

Ding Ling pursued and killed dozens of Demon Cult members.

Trapped Dragon Swordplay!

With a flick of his finger, a dense mass of sword light transformed into ten thousand flying swords. Flowing into the