Almost fighting all the way, Xia Wuyou and the others immediately gathered, a group of people descended straight from the air.
Upon looking back, seventy percent of the Central Continent cultivators were already lost.
With less than thirty percent remaining, nearly seven hundred cultivators died, like a fleeting moment.
"You should leave first!"
Han Yu shook his head, looking at this remaining group—this place was never meant for them.
To those above the Divine Gaze Realm, they were nothing more than ants.
Even with more numbers, they were still just a heap of ants.
What troubled him most was that these supposed ants were the ones who saved him.
And all these casualties happened during the rescue.
Xia Wuyou and the others nodded solemnly; their energy had greatly depleted in this brief time, staying any longer would be meaningless.
With less than three hundred disciples remaining, each extremely wretched, without their mechanical beasts, staying meant only death.
Boom!
