Netherworld battlefield, at the edge of the boundary.
The words of the Saint King fell like a piece of ice thrown into a gradually boiling pot.
The battlefield, where Divine Skills were ceaseless and Killing Techniques rained down like a storm, suddenly plunged into deathly silence, even the Dharma of the Dao becoming frozen and solidified.
The Saint King stood sideways, his robe sleeve lightly brushing, instantly smoothing out the spatial ripples left from the fierce battle.
The expressions of All Saints behind him became extremely... illusive?
Even their gazes at the Saint King now carried a hint of surprise and inquiry.
Then they all turned in unison to look behind them, at their guarded direction, eyes filled with dread.
An absurd yet uncontrollable thought sprouted in their hearts—
Does the Netherworld really need their protection?
And so it was with All Saints in the Netherworld.
Not to mention the powerful entities gathered from various realms.
