Public Sea of Consciousness, seemingly a cloud, with endless Celestial Soldiers and Generals standing on it, leading fleets, full of oppressive pressure.
And these Celestial Soldiers and Generals seem intent on exterminating a demon king from the lower realm.
"Die!"
"The seven thousand eight hundred thirty-sixth one!"
Under Fifth Tier Perfection, almost no one saw how Xu Changsheng made his move.
Only Spiritual Power vaguely sensed a beam of light passing by, and then heads fell.
Countless elite armies, special forces kings, mecha legions, were swiftly harvested like weeds.
The Pure Yang True Immortal, simply the god of oppressing the weak.
"Such oppressive pressure."
"Such sharp strikes."
"Cannot see, cannot hear."
Horrific pressure kept coming.
But at this moment...
A marshal directing the battleship of early Fifth Tier, with a cold brain, cold sweat streaming, every instinct, telekinesis, was tense.
Die!
Will die!
And in the next second, he died.
