In the sky, the Demonic Sect member looked down at the people below with a smile, his eyes brimming with greed.
"It's over, Vanguard General."
Looking at the Demonic Sect member above, the old man's face turned ashen. He was old; even in a one-on-one fight, he might not be able to defeat him.
"Damn it, run! Don't look back!"
The moment the old man finished speaking, he discovered that the five disciples behind him had already vanished. Looking into the distance, their figures were already fading away.
"Ungrateful wretches! Ungrateful wretches! What kind of disciples did I take in?"
The old man clutched his chest, clearly furious beyond measure. What sins had he committed in his previous life to end up taking in such a pack of talented disciples?
"Looks like your disciples don't seem very willing to listen to you."
The Demonic Sect member was amused by the sight as well. He had seen far too many tragic bonds between masters and disciples, but this was the first time he had witnessed such a scene. It truly opened his eyes.
"Old man, will you do it yourself, or do you need my help? After all, your flesh is nowhere near as delicious as that of your disciples."
The Demonic Sect member had already descended to the ground and was slowly walking toward the old man.
The Demonic Sect member reached into the void, and a pitch-black long saber immediately appeared in his hand.
"You think this old man will do it himself? You're dreaming."
The old man sneered as a whisk appeared in his hand. Its white strands matched his white robes perfectly.
"Stubborn fool. Slash!"
The Demonic Sect member roared, his voice shaking heaven and earth. In an instant, he charged at the old man, saber energy