Now they saw Innate Martial Artists, whose strength was equal to or even greater than theirs, being harvested like weeds, and their hearts felt truly complex.
In succession, six disciples of the Eight Desolates Sect died, leaving the remaining members of the sect completely filled with fear; in their eyes, Lin Chen was now an invincible Demon God.
Run!
Even knowing that if they fled this time, once the news got back to the sect, the Sect Elders would surely be enraged, as they had disgraced the sect in front of so many forces.
But a shameful survival is better than a noble death; no matter the punishment, it's better than losing one's life.
Whoosh!
One disciple of the Eight Desolates Sect was the first to run, and Wan Xingyao's face instantly turned grim: "Bastard, the disciples of my Eight Desolates Sect do not have the sort that value life over courage."
After speaking, Wan Xingyao cast a threatening glance at the remaining four junior brothers.
