Even if he went at it five times a night, night after night without pause, he still might not get her pregnant after millions of years.
The stronger one was, the harder it was to produce offspring.
The stronger a cultivator was, the more powerful their genes, and the greater their children's talent would be. Yet constrained by the laws of heaven and earth, offspring were almost never born.
That was why many exceedingly powerful races had very few members.
The more powerful the expert, the more they valued their offspring. If one died, there was a high chance their bloodline would end there.
"I'm very dissatisfied with your tone. I forgot to tell you—I, Ye Lin, respond to softness, not force. You've angered me already, so... my apologies."
Ye Lin gave a cold laugh, then exerted all his strength. The black light before him instantly shattered, followed by a scream. Cang Shang's divine soul in his hand immediately broke apart.
"Good, good, good. Very good. I have remembered your aura, brat. I hope I never run into you in the future. Otherwise, I will kill you without fail."
The face in the sky spat out several successive "goods," each word steeped in towering rage.
The next moment, a bolt of lightning struck toward Ye Lin, one that had already surpassed the limits of what he could endure.
This attack had reached the level of a Loose Immortal.
"Die, brat."
The cold laugh rang out from the sky again. Though it was merely an incarnation, it was more than enough to slaughter a human brat at the Mahayana stage.
On the surface, he had been speaking with Ye Lin, but in truth, he had been secretly gathering power all along. Since this was only an incarnation, it required comparatively more