Those two words fell like sparks into a pile of dry kindling.
"Enslave them!" A burly man at the late Qi Refining stage stamped his foot, and the Dark Iron Shield in his hand slammed into the ground with a clang, sparks bursting from its rim.
"Wash them in blood!" A silver-armored cultivator from the Condensed Jade Sect in the front row drew his sword, its blade reflecting his bloodshot eyes. He was Miao Wushang, who had ranked third on the Gold Ranking at the Dragon Gate Gathering all those years ago.
The chants swelled like a tide, each wave drowning out the last.
"Kill them all!"
"It's all ours!"
The rogue cultivators were the wildest. One tall, skinny cultivator jumped up and down, shouting, "Women! Spirit stones! They're all mine!"
The chants grew more chaotic, more frenzied, like countless hungry wolves roaring.
"Wash the Nine Great Guard Islands in blood!"
"Strip those slutty nuns of their monastic robes! That's for charging me so many spirit stones!"
"Fill in their spirit veins!"
Qing Chen suddenly raised his hand, lifting the Pojun Battle Halberd high. A streak of red light shot into the sky!
The roaring stopped dead.
More than six thousand pairs of eyes converged on him again, red, bright, and greedy, like a pack of wild dogs waiting to be fed.
The corners of Qing Chen's mouth curled slightly. He said nothing.
The sails of forty Mysterious Blood Warships rose at the same instant.
The sound of canvas pulling taut drowned out every breath.
"Set out."
Qing Chen's curt command drove like a nail into everyone's bones.
As the cultivators turned, someone shouted again:
"It's all ours!"
When the silhouettes of the forty Mysterious Blood Warships' sails had completely merged into the dusk, Qing Chen's gaze gradually chilled. He