Nine tripod cauldrons full of bloodmeal stood within the Hall of Peace.

The dense smell of blood already filled the air, but as seven Grain Avoidance cultivators died where they stood, the stench intensified.

Earlier, Zhou Zhili had been fighting back the urge to hurl. Yet now, he felt incomparably joyful, so excited that he almost wanted to dance, throw back his head, and roar into the sky.

Over the past few days, the “highest authority of the Great Zhou” had felt far too stifled and suppressed. Of course watching the experts of the Celestial Prison Demon Court fall excited him!

“You… Just who are you people?” Duan Pojia struggled to his feet and asked in a quavering voice. He sounded as terrified as could be.

“Even if we told you, you wouldn’t recognize our names,” said Yuan Heng. He strode forward, his tall, stalwart figure emanating an imposing majesty.

“I might be doomed, but you can forget about getting out of here alive either!” Duan Pojia roared hysterically and crushed a chain-shaped black talisman. Black light shot out of it.

Yuan Heng ignored it, raised his hand, and slapped.

Bang!

Duan Pojia was already severely injured, so his body burst like paper...