For the Nether Python Clan, they had seen the earlier battle between Yao Ming and Yao Xiaotian clearly.
Yao Ming had completely abandoned defense. Every move he made was a tactic of trading wounds for wounds, life for life, embodying the words "Desperate Sanlang" to the extreme.
If not for that, even though he had recovered to a Two-Star Dou Saint, it would have been no easy feat to so swiftly and thoroughly crush an equally ruthless mid-stage One-Star Dou Saint expert.
From this, one could see that Yao Ming's hatred for Yao Xiaotian had already reached the heavens!
"It seems the suffering of being imprisoned for these several hundred years has tempered the hatred in Yao Ming's heart into the sharpest poisoned blade. If he does not make a move, then so be it—but once he does, it will be a killing blow, without the slightest mercy."
Seeing Yao Ming and Yao Xiaotian's bodies drenched in blood, their tragic appearances making them look like men made of blood, even Lin Ming could not help feeling slightly stunned inwardly.
This sort of life-risking fighting style, carrying a pure will of destruction, made even him feel a trace of chill. The power of hatred could indeed sometimes make a person erupt with a terror beyond their limits.
"B-Big Brother! Big Brother! Spare me! Spare me just this once!"
Pinned firmly at the heart by Yao Ming's foot, which was soaked in his own blood, Yao Xiaotian felt the ice-cold killing intent and aura of death seeping through his chest. The habitual sinister ruthlessness and brutality on his face had long since vanished without a trace, replaced by fear and pleading that had sunk deep into his bones.
Just then, Yao Xiaotian's voice was shrill, tinged with sobs as he tried to