And none of the talismans he had given Scholar were used. Not a single Ten Thousand Poisons Sect disciple escaped Poison Mist Marsh; all of them died in the swamp.
At that moment—
The Barefoot Immortal Wraith, its pupils white, strode out of the poisonous marsh carrying the corpse of a gaunt old man, then tossed it before Chen Qiu.
"Collecting corpses is still the happiest part."
With a smile on his face, Chen Qiu wrapped his arm in spiritual energy and carefully removed the old man's storage ring and everything else from his body. He did not even spare the man's shoes or undergarments—who knew whether they might be fine spirit treasures?
Immediately afterward.
Several thousand Devil Race cultivators emerged as well, each carrying hundreds of Ten Thousand Poisons Sect disciples' corpses, which they threw onto the open ground.
Fat Dragon and the others moved forward with practiced ease, swiftly stripping away every storage pouch and storage ring from their waists.
"They really won't fit anymore."
Fat Dragon pulled open his robe, revealing dozens of storage pouches tied by ropes from his chest down to the roots of his thighs, along with an inner pocket stuffed with dozens of storage rings. With a light shake, a chorus of metallic clanging could be heard.
An incomparably blissful smile crept onto his face, his mouth nearly splitting all the way to his ears.
"Brother Qiu, this time I'm really full. Full beyond full."
"They're practically bursting out."
Storage pouches and storage rings each contained their own separate spaces and could not be nested within one another.
"..."
Chen Qiu rolled his eyes at Fat Dragon without saying anything. He possessed the Minor World "Mocking Heaven Sect"; with that much space, even another hundred thousand storage rings would fit. But Fat Dragon