Buildings collapsed, thick smoke billowed, and corpses lay strewn amid the spreading flames.
Among the countless jumbled ruins, figures, some mutilated and others intact, still stood blankly. Even as the world fell apart, they gave no response.
Walking dead.
By now, even a bombshell like "that fucking Lu Changsheng is already coming to kill us" failed to stir the slightest ripple.
A mighty Sacrificial Master and saint, a public menace to the Present World—for all his exploits in life and after death, this was probably the first time he had ever commanded so little respect...
As the saying went, if I kill all my subordinates, nobody else can kill them. If I turn all my believers into puppets, I won't have to worry about them defecting in battle or panicking.
It really did save effort, worry, and time.
After all, in the Original Vow Lineage's eyes, nearly everyone below the upper ranks was expendable, disposable at any time. Even most of the upper ranks were, too.
Lured onto this path by faith, they had sacrificed themselves again and again. After repeated brainwashing and alterations to their perceptions, they had long since lost their true nature. Apart from obsession and fanaticism, all that remained was an instinctive pursuit of joy amid boundless emptiness... Regardless of status or identity, these so-called members were merely empty shells and vessels for cultivating desire. Once the fruit ripened, it could naturally be picked and eaten.
Nobody cared whether the vessels lived or died.
At least, nobody had before.
But now, Beiling desperately wished someone would step forward and shoulder some of the pressure with him—even if they were only there for show!
At this moment, facing the utterly berserk Turning Wheel Saint King, Beiling was completely numb!
As everyone knew, among the Twelve Supreme Goodnesses,