Second Main Road!
A patrol unit of five hundred moved through dense, tightly packed rounds.
Though they had faced the greatest sects of the Nine Provinces and won an almost overwhelming victory, reaping an exceptionally bountiful harvest of results, not a trace of slackness or ease showed on their faces.
On the contrary, their expressions were as grim and murderous as ever. One after another, they were like machines—without emotion, unaware of fatigue, faithfully carrying out every command passed down to them.
"It's truly unbelievable. A group of rogue cultivators actually possesses such terrifying organizational discipline."
A voice rang out, filled with astonishment.
"Forget rogue cultivators. Even the top sects couldn't possibly have this kind of organizational discipline."
Someone immediately shook their head and flatly denied it.
Rogue cultivators? Were rogue cultivators even worthy? This sort of discipline could exist in the armies of mortal dynasties, but cultivators could scarcely achieve such uniformity.
A cold voice sounded, carrying an indescribable undertone.
"Are these fellows really still human?"
"Eh, indeed. There's a serious problem within them. It feels like something has been done to their souls," someone said.
A rather irritable voice rose, cutting off the conversation. "Enough. Who cares whether they're human or what's going on with them? Can we make our move yet?"
"Move. The longer we delay, the more disadvantageous it becomes for us."
"Right. Everyone, do your best to whittle down their living forces. Don't directly clash with their Yang God-level peerless elites."
"We're at an absolute disadvantage right now. Only by reducing those two thousand-plus cultivators to fewer than eight hundred can the scales of victory tilt back toward us."
Almost the instant those words fell, the owner of the irritable voice moved.
BOOM!
It was as though the sky had been punched through with a