Ye Lin looked at them calmly, but the icy tone in his voice made it clear that this was no joke—it was real.
For a moment, the figures before him all began to stir restlessly.
They looked at one another, then gradually inched forward.
"Lord Ye, even if they're cannon fodder, this..."
Wang Sheng leaned close to Ye Lin and spoke in a low voice, a hint of difficulty on his face.
Even if these people were cannon fodder, it could not be made so obvious. Even if they were all destined to die in the end, they could not die so carelessly.
Ye Lin's move had completely left him at a loss.
"Don't worry."
Ye Lin patted his shoulder and said softly.
Before them, under Ye Lin's constant urging, these people took out their weapons one by one. The cannon fodder raised by the Eight Ancient Clans also began to move out.
They shouted a few words to bolster their courage, then charged forward as though they no longer cared for their lives. They were incredibly fast, and in the blink of an eye, they were locked in battle with the Three Great Clans in the distance.
Taking advantage of this opening, Ye Lin walked forward step by step.
"Oh, right. Are you cannon fodder too?"
Ye Lin suddenly turned around and looked at Wang Sheng, who stood motionless in the distance.
"Just kidding."
Ye Lin suddenly chuckled, then stepped into the fray.
Wang Sheng, standing where he was, immediately broke out in cold sweat.
From that one glance alone, he could not tell whether Ye Lin had truly been joking.
All he knew was that look had been terrifying.
"Filthy things."
Having entered the battlefield, Ye Lin naturally showed no mercy. Holding the Blooddrinking Sword of the Fallen