"Greetings, Master!"
More than fifty prospective death soldiers filed into the hall in orderly fashion. Under Leng Yuexin's direction, they bowed in unison to the figure dressed in black robes.
Although they could not discern his cultivation, even the faint aura he inadvertently leaked made them tremble. Clearly, his strength far surpassed "Instructor Leng's."
Perhaps this was the mastermind behind it all!
Four years had passed. After round upon round of elimination, the original hundred had dwindled to just over fifty.
And that was only because the pace of elimination had slowed later on.
Though their numbers had fallen, their "quality" had improved.
After four years, all the prospective death soldiers had reached middle Qi Refining or higher.
Some with outstanding aptitude had even reached late Qi Refining.
Shen Shan, Gong Xinyuan, and Xu Haoran, for instance.
After the prospective death soldiers bowed, no response came for a long time.
A terrifying aura filled the room. Leng Yuexin stood solemnly to one side, and without permission, none of them dared straighten up.
Drip, drip.
In barely a dozen breaths, beads of sweat had appeared on the foreheads of some cultivators with weaker nerves, falling to the floor with crisp little sounds.
"."
The pupils of the cultivator who made the noise instantly contracted to pinpoints. Terror filled his heart, and cold sweat drenched his back.
They had all undergone the strictest training. If they made a mistake at a time like this, no one could predict the consequences.
Thank goodness she didn't pursue it.
Seeing Leng Yuexin glance over, then look away without doing anything else, the cultivator breathed a sigh of relief. He actually felt as though he had escaped death.
Like glimpsing a leopard through a narrow tube, this small incident revealed how much they feared "Instructor Leng,"