"Take a look at this! Does this make any sense? Huh? Does this damn well make any sense?!"
Di Nian Evil Spirit's roar exploded across the Mental Network, its fury nearly burning through the mind-link and into the minds of every ally.
Then it pointed at the figure wielding a golden greatsword in the perception feed. Its thoughts formed a cursor that tapped at Tu Hu, who was wreathed in golden light, like a teacher rapping on a blackboard during class.
"Who is that? I'm asking you, who is that? More than a hundred of our brothers across the alliance spent over half a year planning and working, never letting up for a moment. We squeezed every last scrap of the old stele's reserves dry just to forge one Wan Ji. And what did the players do? Huh? They just casually pulled out a Demigod Realm combatant, huh?"
The Mental Network fell silent.
The Evil Spirits, who had been bubbling over with congratulations just moments earlier, now fell quiet. They could all feel the anger and frustration in their boss Di Nian's heart.
"Outrageous!" Di Nian Evil Spirit slammed a fist into the air, sending the black fog around the tower surging.
The overwhelming frustration set its anger ablaze.
It had paid too much to reach this day.
Under the ceaseless harassment of two beastly factions, it had shouldered the pressure, advanced step by step, and racked its brains until it finally gained a demigod-level unit of its own.
For countless days and nights, it had imagined Wan Ji's creation complete and descending upon Emperor's Tomb Mountain Range to sweep the battlefield.
The cunning beastly players and beastly insect race would be helpless against its overwhelming strength, fleeing in every direction.
This was supposed to be its long-awaited moment of