Netherwind Wolf Hide Bound Fast to Fate, a Demon Shadow Bore a Stele to Seal Heaven's Pass

Lu Chen had just declared that he would kill three hundred sword cultivators by himself.

The moment Fourth Li heard it, the dark-red blood and qi throughout his body surged wildly. He stomped forward, crushing the rotten mud beneath his foot to pulp.

"Benefactor! You gave us these lives!" Fourth Li's fleshy face flushed scarlet. He clenched a broad-backed chopper he had just picked up. "Even if we die today, us hundred-odd brothers will be your shields of flesh! We'll take every job of the Dare-to-Die Camp. We'll use these bones and this flesh to tear apart whatever bullshit sword formation they have!"

The dozens of mine slaves who had just drunk Desolate Blood stepped forward in unison. Their chests were thrust high, their scraps of broken metal raised, and they roared along in rough voices.

Lu Chen turned and viciously kicked a millstone-sized chunk of rock before him.

The rock exploded on the spot, and a storm of stone chips smashed down over Fourth Li's head and face.

"Shut your damn mouths, all of you!" Lu Chen roared, shaking dust loose from the cave ceiling.

"With those half-baked bodies of yours, you haven't even touched the edge of Thousand-Layer Black Iron! What are you running out there for? To be chopped into dishes for those immortal-cultivating mongrels?" Lu Chen's crimson-black eyes were wide and round, filled with undisguised savage fury.

Fourth Li refused to accept it, craning his neck as he tried to speak.

Lu Chen did not give him the chance. Pointing at his nose, he cursed, "I worked my ass off to brew Desolate Blood for you. Was it so you could go die? My Ultimate Path has never taken idiots who come offering up their lives for nothing!"

The scolding showed no mercy, hammering Fourth Li's