The five peak Mythical Realm experts standing at the front of the Asura Race looked utterly dreadful.
They looked at one another, but none of them could speak.
They were unwilling to accept this.
How much had the Asura Race paid? How many people had died, how much blood had been shed, before they found clues to the Primordial Netherworld Secret Realm, refined a pure Netherworld Bloodline, and waited until this day?
To make them split it evenly with a group of Sleepers who had appeared from who knew where—they could not accept it.
One peak Mythical Realm expert took a deep breath, turned, and looked at Chu Tian.
His voice was hoarse, so hoarse that it was almost inaudible, yet every word seemed to have been ground to pieces in his throat before being forced out.
"Crown Prince, why don't we join forces and wipe out these Sleepers first? They may be powerful, but if we work together, they will not last long. Once they are destroyed, the origin of the Blood Sea Secret Realm will be ours, and the inheritance within the Primordial Netherworld Secret Realm will belong to our two factions."
The other four peak Mythical Realm experts also looked at Chu Tian, their eyes filled with expectation.
Naturally, they did not wish to cooperate with the Human Race, but the Sleepers were far too unfathomable.
If they could draw Chu Tian in, their chances of victory would be far greater.
Chu Tian looked at that peak Mythical Realm expert, at his face twisted by fury and unwillingness, at his eyes gleaming with expectation.
He said nothing. He merely curled his lips slightly.
The curve was so faint it was almost impossible to see, but that peak Mythical Realm expert saw it, and his heart sank.
Chu