"Courting death."
The last, taciturn young cultivator said coldly.
At some point, a blade had appeared in his hand. Its edge was transparent, slicing through space as easily as cutting tofu.
Space itself had been carved open by the blade in his hand, leaving behind a crack.
The atmosphere abruptly became tense.
The three cultivators from the Time Temple clearly did not regard Ye Lin's group as worthy opponents.
They were three quasi-Saints to begin with, and they were proficient in the laws of time. Joining forces, they were invincible beneath the heavens.
Although they could not make sense of several people's auras, their arrogance had already robbed them of even the most basic judgment.
In their hearts, they looked down on the natives of these little places.
How powerful could the natives of some tiny, remote, godforsaken place possibly be?
But if that was their judgment, then they were wrong.
And wrong beyond measure.
"Should we make a move?"
Iron Hammer carried his massive hammer on his shoulder, eager to try.
With a single command from Ye Lin, Iron Hammer could immediately attack and smash the three of them into pulp.
"No. I'll do it this time."
Ye Lin took a step forward, and an ordinary long sword appeared in his hand.
He had casually taken this long sword from the Sword Graveyard earlier.
Its blade was covered in rust, with several chips along the edge. It looked as though it could snap at any moment.
Seeing this, the three from the Time Temple sneered.
"You're using this kind of scrap iron?"
"Looks like we won't even need to act. The restrictions of this golden tower will be enough to take your life."
"What a pack of foolish natives."
The red-haired woman shook her head, her tone dripping with