Mo Cha did not make a move. He merely stood in the center of the camp, shielding the emissaries from the smaller tribes that had already submitted behind him. The expression on his face changed several times.
He had thought that even if the people of those major tribes refused, they would not act recklessly.
Yet unexpectedly, they actually dared to launch an attack here in the middle of the night.
One had to know that everyone present was a cultivator. Qin Baili and Li Chuan, in particular, had both reached the Nascent Soul Realm, and the range covered by their Divine Sense exceeded a hundred li.
Anyone who approached would be discovered in an instant unless they used some secret art.
Mo Cha recognized some of the faces among the foreign warriors surrounding them.
Just three days ago, they had still drunk tea with him and complained about how difficult life in the Northern Domain was.
Yet now, these people were charging at him with weapons raised, the killing intent in their eyes no different from that of any other foreign race.
"Kill! Kill these cultivators!"
"A bunch of outsiders, you really are courting death!"
"Since you've turned your backs on us, don't blame us for showing no mercy!"
The slaughter lasted for the time it took an incense stick to burn.
Around the camp, more than ten thousand corpses lay strewn in every direction.
The main forces of several major tribes had nearly been wiped out. The remnants of the smaller tribes had long since scattered and fled, not daring to look back again.
However, just as Qin Baili withdrew his sword and prepared to order a pursuit, a sudden change erupted.
The blood from the mountain-like heaps of corpses seeped into the ground through the cracks. Then,