The slaughter had already gone on for ten hours.
On the battlefield, the once densely packed experts of the Profound Origin Scorpion Clan had dwindled to almost none. They had practically been slaughtered to the last.
The Starry Sky was now filled with Blood Baleful aura and the corpses of countless races. Every corpse was wreathed in an incomparably powerful aura.
If these corpses fell into a major world, they could allow that world to grow within a short time to the point where it could give birth to half-step Golden Immortal experts.
If even one of them accidentally fell into some minor world, it would be an unparalleled treasure. A single drop of blood could nurture countless immortal herbs.
Yet at this moment, these corpses were simply left wasted upon the battlefield, with no one sparing them a glance.
Those capable of fighting here simply looked down on such corpses. To them, they were useless.
We killed these corpses while they were alive. What value could they possibly have after death? Not the slightest bit.
In a certain corner, a large group stood huddled together, their eyes flashing with greed as they gazed at the endless sea of corpses.
"Master, these are all prime materials. If we bring these corpses back, it will be enough to take our Puppet Sect a step further."
"Yes, Master. If we refine all these corpses into puppets, our Puppet Sect will earn a name even across the entire Demon Domain."
The experts all looked toward the elderly man at the center. With a single command from him, they could carry every one of these corpses away.
Given time, the Puppet Sect would stand at the very peak of the Demon Domain.
"No. There are too many experts here now—almost all the experts of