Yan Batian was, after all, among the stronger ranks of the supreme prodigies. Otherwise, he would never have gained such immense fame.
"Devil Race, Mo Xin?"
Ye Lin narrowed his eyes at the figure ahead, whose presence dominated heaven and earth.
"A Human Race member dares to impersonate a supreme prodigy? A crime worthy of ten thousand deaths. Supreme prodigies are not something a cowardly Human Race member like you is qualified to impersonate."
"It just so happens we arrived early today and haven't eaten yet. You lot will do nicely to whet our appetites."
"Judging by your auras, you should all be Human Race prodigies. Prodigies are at least fit for consumption."
Mo Xin gripped the railing of the cloud vessel before him with both hands, his eyes sweeping over Ye Lin and those behind him, his tone brimming with disdain.
The Devil Race was inherently an incomparably overbearing race. And now that they had encountered what they usually considered food, they naturally became even more domineering.
The Human Race was only fit to serve as food for their Devil Race.
Hearing Mo Xin speak so arrogantly, Ye Lin's expression remained unchanged, but inwardly, he was secretly delighted.
This fellow had come at exactly the right time—just in time to help him establish his prestige.
The Human Race had been suppressed for far too long. Even though news of his defeat of Yan Batian had spread, prodigies of the other races refused to believe it when they heard.
That left him greatly troubled. If his reputation could not spread, the rate at which he gathered luck would be painfully slow.
The Heaven-Devouring Demon Jar had said that once his luck reached a certain level, it would pass on to him a method of cultivating through luck.
The reason the