Zhunti could not possibly defeat Wutian alone. At this point, his only option was to find someone to join forces with.
Across the entire battlefield, the most reliable choice was naturally Ming He.
At that moment, Ming He was pressing down Venerable Envy, Venerable Wrath, and Venerable Gluttony, unleashing a frenzied barrage.
The twin swords Yuan Tu and A Bi crisscrossed back and forth, the Blood Sea surged, and killing intent ran rampant, beating the three venerables into a wretched state.
Just then, Ming He suddenly frowned, an inexplicable sense of foreboding rising in his heart.
"Mm?" He turned his head and looked over.
In the distance, Zhunti was flying toward him at top speed, with a Wutian wreathed in surging demonic qi following behind him.
"That thieving bald donkey really can't be relied on!"
Ming He hurriedly sent a voice transmission: "Zhunti! Lead Wutian somewhere else! Don't come disturb This Seat!"
After all, although Ming He was currently pressing three venerables down and beating them, Chaos creatures had vitality so tenacious it was absurd.
If he wanted to kill them, it would still take some effort.
If Wutian joined the battle—and then looking at Zhunti's miserable appearance—even an idiot would know this Demon Sect Master was not to be trifled with.
When that time came, things on his side would explode too.
However, how could Zhunti, who was being hunted down, still care about any of that? The wind howled past his ears, yet the thought in his heart was extraordinarily firm.
Better a fellow Daoist die than this Poor Daoist. Besides, Ming He was known as "as long as the Blood Sea does not dry, Ming He does not die."
Selling him out a little should probably be fine, right?
Seeing that Zhunti did not listen to his