Ao Zhou thought, Could it be that all these Human Race Half-Sages have visited the Undying Sacred Land and each slain ten thousand opponents of the same rank?
When had the Human Race become so powerful?
Could they continue cultivating even after death?
Yet Fang Yun was not the least bit surprised.
Ao Zhou glanced at Fang Yun and saw him remaining utterly composed, as if proving that everything was within his expectations—something a single signal arrow could settle required no intervention from him.
Every Sacred Way belonging purely to the Human Race returned to the Human Race.
There were also many Sacred Ways shared by multiple races. Ao Min possessed them, and the Human Race sages and Fang Yun either possessed them or had dabbled in them, especially combat-oriented Sacred Ways.
As a result, the powers of those White-Light Dragon Sages began draining away at a frantic pace, either seized by the Thunder Saints or dissipating into heaven and earth.
Above the sky, the sages fought fiercely, their Sacred Ways in chaotic disarray.
Pitch-black spatial rifts spread everywhere, the Voice of All Living Beings rang out, divine light overflowed, and heaven and earth shone brilliantly.
Ao Zhou gazed at the sky, his eyes gleaming.
Such a magnificent battle of all living beings was a sight rarely seen in ten thousand years.
The only regret was that the entire process resembled a group of well-trained soldiers besieging a larger pack of wild beasts.
The beasts were powerful, but the soldiers and generals possessed more exquisite methods.
Suddenly, the most aggressive Han Feizi suffered a sneak attack. His Thunder Body exploded like a Sagefall.
Ao Min secretly sighed in relief. This meant Fang Yun's Sacred-Way War Poetry was not invincible. These...
Ao Min had only reached the middle of that thought