Lin Ming moved like lightning, the Asura Divine Spear turning into a cold flash in his hand. Every thrust took a life. Having advanced to the Peak Ninth Level of the Tenth Tier, he was practically slaughtering anyone below the Eleventh Tier.
Those Tenth Tier generals were like paper before him. One spear, one kill—none had any power to resist.
The spear tip pierced through protective spiritual light, armor, and flesh. Every time he withdrew it, it brought forth a spray of blood that scattered across the charred ground.
Blood gathered into streams and wound through the cracks in the earth. The air was thick with a nauseating stench of blood.
His movements flowed without the slightest pause, as though he was not fighting, but harvesting.
He darted through the crowd like a phantom. The generals could not even see his movements; they only saw a cold flash before losing consciousness.
Some tried to flee, but Lin Ming's spear was faster. Wherever its radiance reached, no one could stop it.
Some tried to join forces and surround him, but Lin Ming's footwork was strange and unpredictable. He always found their openings and struck with lethal precision.
The system announcements rang continuously in his mind: "Killed a Fifth Level of the Tenth Tier enemy. Obtained Kill Points..."
"Killed a Seventh Level of the Tenth Tier enemy. Obtained Kill Points..."
"Killed an Eighth Layer of the Tenth Tier enemy. Obtained Kill Points..."
His gaze was cold and utterly unmoved. Since these people wanted to kill him, they could not blame him for being ruthless.
He had never been a saint. In this world where the strong preyed upon the weak, mercy was the greatest foolishness.
He had seen too many people die because they had been softhearted. In this world, only the