Bring Out the Hostages

If he could not hit them, and what he saw was still a false illusion, Poison God could only choose wide-area attacks that consumed an extreme amount of spiritual power.

Wu Dayi stepped with his Footwork and instantly left where he stood. By the time he stopped, the place where he had been standing had already been corroded by that black-green spiritual power. The sand and stones on the ground gave off thin wisps of green smoke, and before long, pit after pit appeared, finally forming a stretch of pocked, uneven ground.

This, it seemed, was where the name Poison God came from.

"Everyone, stop!" Just then, Fan Xiong suddenly appeared from who knew where, glaring viciously at Wu Dayi and the others.

He waved his hand, and hundreds of old people, women, children, and young men were pushed out by Myriad Poison Sect disciples, blades pressed to their necks.

"Hurry up and put down the magical treasures in your hands, or I'll slaughter all these civilians!" Fan Xiong's smug, triumphant manner made Wu Dayi and the others grind their teeth as they watched.

"As expected! The Demon Sect is the Demon Sect!" Wu Dayi made no effort to hide the fury in his voice, cursing them right in front of Poison God.

Though Poison God did not want to use such a method either, he had discovered that killing these four martial brothers from Big Bamboo Peak was not something he could accomplish in a short time. The longer this dragged on, the greater Myriad Poison Sect's losses would be.

When Zhang Xiaofan and He Dazhi saw the elderly, women, and children pushed out behind Poison God, saw the despair in the old people's eyes, and heard the children clinging to the women's legs as they stifled their sobs,