As he spoke, Dugu Feng drew the weathered wooden sword from his waist.
"Marching to your deaths? You're the ones who will die."
"The outcome is already set. Wouldn't it have been better for you to hide quietly? Why insist on resisting?"
One of the youths took the initiative to look at Ye Lin and spoke softly.
"What do you mean?"
"Heh, exactly what it sounds like. All your efforts are futile. Behind us stand the major peak powers of the Demon Domain. Do you really think that with this little strength of yours, you can contend against us?"
As soon as he finished speaking, the youth attacked Ye Lin.
In his eyes, these present-day prodigies were nothing but ants.
Just like the people he had cut down earlier—each and every one of them had been pathetically weak. With that little ability, they dared call themselves prodigies?
It was simply an insult to the word "prodigy."
Thus, he assumed Ye Lin and the others were the same—a pack of reckless brutes who did not fear death.
It could be said that the prodigies of the Northern Continent had given them confidence.
Yet the instant he made his move, his expression changed slightly.
Ye Lin caught his all-out punch in one hand, and he suddenly raised his head to stare at Ye Lin.
Ye Lin viciously yanked with his right hand, and the youth's body instantly lost its balance, falling toward Ye Lin.
Ye Lin showed no courtesy whatsoever. He threw a punch directly, sending the youth flying with a single blow.
"How is this possible?"
Feeling the searing pain in his chest, the youth was greatly shocked, his face full of disbelief.
"Heh, and with this little strength, you dared take the initiative to attack me?"
Ye Lin sneered disdainfully,