He couldn’t save the Middle Land? Even if he were capable of doing so, he would not come to its rescue?2

Each word hit Wu Yuan's heart like a sledgehammer. Even the realm master was helpless?0

"Realm Master, is there truly no way?" Wu Yuan clenched his teeth, “It’s merely a juvenile worm devil.”1

At the far end of the temple, the ten-meter tall, slightly illusory figure finally moved. Clad in black armor, he strode forward, stopping in front of Wu Yuan. Even as an eldritch warrior, Wu Yuan felt pressured by his overwhelming aura.0

"Hmph!" A contemptuous snort escaped the giant’s lips. "Wu Yuan, you little rascal. Now that you’ve embarked on the path of immortal cultivation and reached the third stage of the Communion phase, you’ve grown bold indeed," the realm master's voice turned icy. "A juvenile worm devil? Did you not read the immortal slips I gave you? Don’t you understand what a devil is?" 0

“Throughout the ages, the Greenridge Macrocosm had been plagued by countless wars, ignited by the infamous Blood Sea and Abyss. Each conflict created mountains of corpses and rivers of blood, claiming the lives of numerous immortal cultivator powerhouses.0

“In the bleakest of times, the devils reigned supreme over the Greenridge Macrocosm. It was only through the arrival of the Eldritch Deities dispatched by the Eldritch Progenitors and the Celestial Soldiers of the Immortal Court that the tides were finally...0