When the first to stick his neck out fell, the few remaining geniuses, stunned, broke out in a cold sweat. They stared, dumbfounded, at [Netherworld] and began to retreat rapidly, daring not to linger.
If before they'd wanted to probe his depths on the off-chance he was just an empty bluff—thinking they could kill him and make a name for themselves—now all they felt was the deepest terror.
The genius who had just died was quite famous—the Grand Elder's Direct Disciple. Some of them had crossed paths before and had mutually agreed not to attack one another, focusing instead on slaughtering the weaker disciples.
But now, that genius had been killed in an instant, with no time to react at all!
'I have to escape, or I'll die!'
Biting down on those seven words, they all fled with all their might. Yet even now, no one else had started fighting. They all gathered on the very outskirts, staring intently at [Netherworld].
