Meanwhile, numerous disciples of the Dark Hall had gathered together, figures packed densely together, numbering well over a thousand. Each of them exuded an abyss-like aura, immensely powerful.
Every one of these people was a human prodigy—either descended from Saints, born into ancient families, or possessing special bloodlines. Their combat strength was in no way inferior to those ancient ferocious beasts.
"Damn it! I never thought Junior Brother Extreme Evil would be killed. That Wu Wudi is far too brazen! Does he not know that Junior Brother Extreme Evil was a disciple of our Dark Hall? How dare he make a move?!"
"Kill him! We must kill Wu Wudi! No matter what his background is, anyone who kills a disciple of our Dark Hall must repay blood with blood. We must make him taste the price of blood."
"People from the Primordial Sacred Land are laughing at us now. They say the Dark Hall's disciples are all trash, that we cannot even defeat a human brat from some barbaric backwater, disgracing the face of a human Sacred Land. Such humiliation can only be washed away with blood."
The faces of the Dark Hall disciples were exceedingly ugly. They felt no sorrow over the deaths of Daoist Extreme Evil and the others; they merely believed the incident had cost the Dark Hall its face.
They had been born in a human Sacred Land and occupied the greatest resources. They should have been invincible, untouchable by anyone. Yet now, they had been defeated by a young man who had appeared from nowhere.
If they did not win back this dignity, the Dark Hall would likely lose all face. Before the Primordial Sacred Land, they would not be able to hold their heads high, nor would they dare speak loudly.
"Find Wu Wudi