With just a cursory glance, Ye Lin could not form even a basic judgment.
The information recorded in the booklet was far too sparse—only cultivation levels and names, nothing else.
That made it difficult for him to judge.
"These thirty-six people are the monstrous geniuses the Chaos Ancient Clan has sealed away throughout the ages."
"Not a single one of them is simple."
Yan Ting, standing beside Ye Lin, wore a grave expression.
"Indeed. Every one of them demands our full strength. One moment of carelessness, and we could plunge into an abyss ten thousand fathoms deep."
A young man in the distance spoke up in agreement.
There was no ease on any of their faces.
Everyone looked solemn, their tones serious, without even a trace of relaxation.
"Fellow Daoists, do we choose these people ourselves, or...?"
Ye Lin pointed at the small booklet and asked.
"No."
A young man in front of Ye Lin waved his hand, opening a white fan before his chest.
He gently fanned himself and lifted his chin.
"We have no say in this. They will be assigned at random."
"If we could choose for ourselves, that would be truly unfair."
After speaking, the young man snapped his white fan shut.
"Why would that be unfair?"
Ye Lin looked at him and asked.
Even if they could choose their opponents, Ye Lin could not see what would be unfair about it.
Their cultivation levels were all the same, and every one of them possessed unfathomable strength.
What unfairness could there be?
"Fellow Daoist Ye Lin, the unfairness does not lie in cultivation level, but in methods."
"For example, body cultivators fear Primordial Spirit cultivators most."
"Body cultivators?"
Ye Lin raised a brow.
At the Quasi-Saint Realm, did it still matter whether one was a body