Tens of millions of Witch Race comrades charged fearlessly through the encirclement, heedless of death.
Yet they could do nothing to withstand the overwhelming assault of the billion-strong Demon Army, which slaughtered them without restraint!
Those savage, tyrannical beasts of the Demon Race!
They wouldn't even spare the corpses of tens of millions of their own people!
They laughed wildly as they devoured the bodies of their own kind.
What filled Xiao Ran with even greater grief and resentment was this:
The hundreds of thousands of Witch Race newborns
had been sent to his tribe.
They should have grown into pillars of the Witch Race, capable of standing on their own and wielding peerless divine might.
Yet because Xiao Ran had underestimated the enemy, they had all fallen into the hands of the billion-strong Demon Army.
The lives of every being in the Primordial World were long!
Countless top experts lived nearly as long as the heavens, shining alongside the sun and moon.
And these newborns, who should have witnessed the Witch Race's prosperity together, had all perished because of Xiao Ran.
Their lives had only just begun, yet they had come to an abrupt end!
This matter had always weighed on Xiao Ran's mind, his greatest source of regret!
Why had he founded Tiangong Hall?
Wasn't it to raise the overall strength of the Witch Race,
wipe out those Demon scum, and avenge the tribesmen who had died on the battlefield?
Houtu's beautiful eyes widened.
To her horror, Xiao Ran's gaze had grown razor-sharp and bloodthirsty.
An uncontrollable, violent aura poured out of him.
Houtu couldn't help feeling a little afraid!
She knew the source of Xiao Ran's anguish!
Needless to say, he was thinking again about that unprecedentedly brutal battle from thousands of years ago!
She absolutely couldn't