More than a hundred people swaggered up to confront Mo Xingtian, who was busy causing destruction everywhere. Just as one of them was about to throw out some harsh words—whoosh!
A thick wooden beam, wielded like a javelin by Xingtian, instantly skewered one of them into oblivion.
The Jie Sect Immortals present immediately had their eyes turn blood-red. Dropping all pretense, they whipped out their magical treasures and hurled them like madmen at Xingtian.
Treasure beads, flying knives, fire, water, lightning—all sorts of attacks crashed onto Xingtian's body. A dazzling flash of mana illuminated the scene, but Xingtian stood there completely unscathed.
Though their magical treasures hadn't caused any real damage, it did succeed in enraging Xingtian. Axe in one hand, he rushed forward, forcing his way through the ranks—one strike, one man down.
"Daoist Li Sen!"
"Brother Wang Lin!"
"Zhu…"
"Form a formation! Quickly—form a formation!"
