It had to be said that Xiao Yun's words were vicious indeed, reducing the disciples of the Desolate Ancient Sacred Land to utter worthlessness and sending them into a towering rage.
In an instant, all the Desolate Ancient Sacred Land disciples' hatred was drawn to Xiao Yun.
"Xiao Yun, you are utterly shameless!"
"This bastard is far too arrogant."
"So overbearing and tyrannical, yet he still has the nerve to be the Holy Son of the Chaos Holy Land? It seems the Chaos Holy Land has truly declined beyond saving."
The Desolate Ancient Sacred Land disciples pointed at Xiao Yun and cursed him furiously, their indignation boiling over as though they would rush forward and kill him the very next moment.
Xiao Yun merely looked disdainful. He swept his contemptuous gaze over them and snorted coldly. "What? You cannot bear to hear the truth? Then tell me, which of my words was wrong? Among everyone here, who can compare to Zhao Wuji?"
The Desolate Ancient Sacred Land disciples were immediately struck speechless.
Zhao Wuji possessed the Desolate Ancient Sacred Body and ranked among the peerless prodigies of his generation. Among those of the same generation, the people capable of defeating Zhao Wuji could almost be counted on one hand.
Naturally, they were nowhere near Zhao Wuji's equal.
At the end of the day, they were simply jealous of Zhao Wuji. Whenever they found an opportunity, they came to trample on him and kick him when he was down, satisfying some twisted thrill in their hearts.
If they truly faced Zhao Wuji one-on-one, they would definitely lower their heads and not even dare to breathe loudly.
In Xiao Yun's eyes, these people were nothing but a rabble. If they had not gathered together, who would have dared to trouble Zhao Wuji?