Hundreds of spears blotted out the sun, all aimed at Marquis Mo, causing his face to pale.
Each of these spears contained immense power, far beyond what any ordinary soldier could wield.
'They're dead set on taking my life.'
The corner of Marquis Mo's mouth twitched, his hatred for Lin Hao driving him to the brink of madness.
The words of these madmen had just made Marquis Mo understand what was going on—he had been framed by Lin Hao.
He swore to the heavens, the technique he had just demonstrated was no quasi-emperor inheritance, and he had never even heard of any Ten Thousand Blood Demon Emperor.
But this was no time to dwell on that. The priority was to retreat.
Faced with hundreds of fanatics who fought with no regard for their lives, he wouldn't dare to take them head-on—not at his Soul Gathering Realm First Layer, and not even if his cultivation were several layers higher.
