Almost the instant Ping Tu pointed to a place, the demon beasts of the entire clan there began dying in rapid succession.
Young or old, none were spared. Even the mid- and high-tier demon cultivators secluded behind restrictive barriers found that their barriers were like a thin mist, offering no protection whatsoever.
None of the demon beasts knew what was happening. They watched those beside them in terror: one moment, they were talking and laughing; the next, they burst into clouds of blood. Then it was their own turn.
It was an inexplicably terrifying force that came from space itself, ignoring all defenses and barriers. Before long, one clan after another within the secret realm vanished completely from the world.
They barely had time to scream or feel terror. Even their golden cores and nascent souls could not escape before their bodies and souls were annihilated.
True Lord Qianzhong did not stop at slaughtering them this way. A ruthless gleam flashed in his eyes.
He swept his broad sleeve again, and countless dark figures flew from every direction toward the secret realm's largest grassland, as thick as driving rain.
All the demon beasts, regardless of cultivation—from wild beasts that had yet to awaken their intelligence to fifth-tier demon cultivators—flew helplessly toward the grassland, overcome with terror.
Then an oppressive might that drove them to despair pinned them firmly down. They lay prostrate on the ground, feeling as though that horrifying power would hammer them straight into the eighteenth level of hell.
Even the fifth-tier old wolf was swept out of seclusion and brought over. At first, he was both shocked and furious. His formations and barriers had not given him the slightest warning. Who had attacked?
In his initial shock and anger, he tried to circulate his cultivation technique and