"We must praise the great Saint Master Han Xing."
Others echoed in agreement.
"Praise Saint Master Han Xing!"
The conference hall was a scene of harmony.
However, while everyone was not paying attention.
On a certain border battlefield of the Witch Race.
A group of pale-faced Witch Race soldiers had unknowingly gathered together.
They stared blankly ahead.
From beneath their standard armor, strange noises emanated.
Slippery, sticky sounds.
With every movement, pus even oozed from their feet...
Such eerie Witch Race soldiers.
Numbered in the tens of thousands.
At this moment, this group of Witch Race soldiers seemed to have received some summons, simultaneously fixating their gaze into the depths of the void.
Then an eerie smile appeared on their faces.
The next moment.
They all walked into the void together.
And then disappeared...
Simultaneously.
Not only at the Witch Race border.
