Wu Heng watched from the side and could not help feeling speechless at these Cursed Disciples. He said softly, "Spencer, we do not rely on these Cursed Disciples, not even on Demon-class beings."
"You four pseudo-Hell-class High Priests are already the equal of trillions upon trillions of Cursed Disciples and Demon-class beings."
"Let them improve freely instead!"
Only upon hearing this did Spencer suddenly come to his senses. His thoughts were still stuck in the time when he had been the High Priest of Leviathan Hell.
Back then, wars between Hells had also been commonplace.
Yet most of the time, the battles were between the Cenobites and those Demon-class beings. In every war, Leviathan and the opposing Hell Lord would head to another battlefield.
And it was almost always a drawn-out stalemate.
As a result, every clash between the Cenobites and demons became the decisive factor in determining victory or defeat.
Sometimes, they would even invade other Hells, while at other times, other Hells would invade them.
Thinking of this, Spencer hated Leviathan all over again. It was obvious that Leviathan had merely been putting on an act back then. It had been fully capable of defeating those Hell Lords.
Yet it had deliberately displayed evenly matched strength. Spencer's bloody struggles and the Cenobites' sacrifices now seemed like a joke.
A joke in which they had died because the Hell Lords were playing a childish game.
Leviathan had never regarded them as free individuals. They were puppets, worse than slaves.
But that was the attitude of Hell-class beings. Even Wu Heng would do the same when necessary.
Such was the sorrow of the weak.
However, after Spencer regained his senses and thought of the overwhelming strength of Blood Floss Hell's four pseudo-Hell-class High Priests, then looked at the Cursed Disciples