"Martial Fool... Martial Fool died just like that?"
Looking at Martial Fool's severed corpse, Xuanyuan Tufeng's face was filled with utter shock.
That was Martial Fool—not some common cabbage—and he had fallen just like that.
"Damn it, how could someone this strong possibly exist in this world?"
Ye Tian muttered to himself with an ugly expression. He did not understand—why was there someone in this world so overwhelmingly powerful?
Even he and Xuanyuan Tufeng were evenly matched, and throughout his life, he had never encountered anyone as tyrannically strong as Ye Lin.
Could a True Immortal truly be this powerful?
For a moment, even his Dao heart began to waver.
Ye Lin's strength had actually frightened a supreme prodigy into having an unstable Dao heart.
One could well imagine just how formidable Ye Lin's current strength was.
Yang Tiangang said nothing, but even the hand gripping his saber hilt was trembling slightly. That slight tremor perfectly revealed his current state of mind.
Even he had been stunned by Ye Lin's strength.
The four of them had joined forces, yet Ye Lin had still slain Martial Fool.
Every one of them stood above the ranks of supreme prodigies—beings who had walked the path of True Immortals to its very limit.
And yet, even so, they were no match for Ye Lin in a single exchange.
"Ye Lin respectfully invites you all... to die."
Looking at the three whose shock had yet to fade, Ye Lin slowly raised the Blooddrinking Sword of the Fallen Emperor in his hand and spoke softly.
His voice was like a gentle breeze brushing past, making one feel as though bathed in spring wind. But what they were bathing in now was not spring wind, but a wind of blood.
"Retreat. This man cannot be confronted head-on."