None of Zitian Xuan Nu's male consorts have lived past a hundred.
There is only two hours left before he reaches his centenary, and he doesn't want to be caught in the same curse!
The eleven Supreme Ones glanced at each other, eventually deciding to act together.
"Kill him!"
"After that strike just now, he must've exhausted himself; we can just drain them dry!"
Qi Yuan stared calmly at these eleven Supremes, "Do you guys even count as Supreme Ones without awakening your Divine Skills?
Nothing but... mere super soldiers!"
Qi Yuan had known for a long time that monks at level 120 or above who had realized their origin in the world did not have Divine Skills.
Such Supreme Ones weren't even equivalent to the old man in the Absolute Land.
"Take my sword!"
Qi Yuan stretched out his hand; the blood clouds in the sky condensed into eleven swords, falling and landing behind him.
These eleven bloody longswords emanated a terrorizing aura.
Murder, arrogance, greed, lust...