Yang Wudi did not even break stride.
He drew his right hand from his sleeve, condensed spiritual power into a ball in his palm, and casually pushed it forward.
The demonic beast's entire body was smashed into the ground, leaving a pit thirty feet deep as broken stones flew everywhere. A muffled crunch of shattering bones rose from the bottom, and black blood seeped out.
"Small fry," Yang Wudi remarked, continuing forward.
Yang Mie followed with his men, glancing down as he passed the pit.
The demonic beast lay flattened against the bottom, still twitching.
Yang Mie tossed an Explosion Talisman into it.
Boom.
Flames leaped from the pit.
The ground ahead began shaking over a vast area. Demonic beasts kept emerging, one after another.
Hordes of demonic beasts poured out of the earth. They varied in size and shape, but all were shrouded in a layer of gray-black resentful qi.
Zhao Ji was dead. These creatures he had nourished with the Resentment Power Secret Art had lost control, and instinct drove them toward the scent of living people.
At Yang Mie's command, the Yang Clan's elites spread out into formation. They hurled Explosion Talismans, then threw bone-shattering spikes and cast beast-trapping nets, bombarding the creatures with all manner of dharma artifacts and spells.
Flames burst across the snowy ground in rapid succession.
The charging horde of demonic beasts was halted. Shredded flesh and black blood splattered everywhere, and the mingled stench of scorching and blood spread through the air, making everyone wrinkle their noses.
Yang Mie drew his long saber, his figure flickering as he cut down three demonic beasts trying to circle around their flank. The spiritual power on his blade flashed in the darkness.
"Now that's satisfying!" Yang Mie gasped after cutting down the last one, then