"Nothing to worry about! This strike will kill him without fail!" Qin Wu had already fought his way to absolute confidence.
He dared to call this the strongest sword strike he had ever unleashed in his life!
None of his previous uses of the Chaos Demon Sword could compare. This was perfection beyond perfection.
The right time, the right place, and the right people-not one could be missing!
Even Qin Wu himself could not guarantee that he would ever again have the opportunity or strength to reproduce this strike with complete accuracy.
"Boy! You should feel honored to be worthy of dying beneath this sword!" Qin Wu's shout shook the heavens.
The half-bodied demon god behind him accelerated its descending blade.
It concentrated all its offensive power within a hundred-meter radius centered on Chen Mu.
This maximized the damage while ensuring that the Desolate Heaven clansmen would not be harmed.
Even if some disciples truly perished, their bodies and cultivation extinguished by the residual force, all he could say was that they were too unlucky-their time to die had come.
Qin Wu had never told them to come running over to watch the show.
They were utterly useless, yet still dared to come spectate?
Qin Wu wanted to ask Qin Hao just how he was running this clan, taking in and raising an entire pack of worthless disciples.
Their lack of strength was bad enough, but they had no fire in their blood! No ambition!
Pathetic! Shameful!
A mere brat with the stink of milk still on him, who had lucked into a peerless heavenly treasure through favorable fortune, had actually stripped every last one of them of their fighting spirit. They did not even dare let out a fart.
Compared with his generation, they fell far short!
So what