The rest of the cultivators of the Minghuang Realm, after seeing their Supreme Elder fall, lost all their fighting spirit, one by one, like kites with broken strings, they were powerlessly slaughtered under the pursuit of Yan Wushuang and the demon team, and the scene was extremely bloody.

When the remnants of the Northern Demon Domain saw this scene, they were like being struck by lightning one by one, and they had both fear and sorrow in their hearts!

Although, most of the dead are cultivators.

But now they have an atmosphere of sadness and empathy for the death of rabbits and foxes.

Their eyes were full of fear, and they had a deeper understanding of the cruelty and strength of Yan Wushuang, a demon powerhouse.

And Yan Wushuang, after the victory, a bloodthirsty smile rose at the corner of his mouth, and the laughter was full of endless coldness and satisfaction, as if fighting and killing were the carnivals he enjoyed the most.

Murong Yunhai witnessed this scene and was completely stunned, his mouth was wide open, and he couldn't speak for a while.

He knew that Yan Wushuang was powerful, but he didn't expect him to be so strong that even the powerful cultivators of the Minghuang Realm were no opponents.

After Yan Wushuang had killed, he specially turned his head to observe Yebai, wanting to see a hint of panic or shake in his expression.

But to Yan Wushuang's surprise, Yebai looked at all this, his face was expressionless, calm as water, as if this bloody scene was just an ordinary thing for him.

This calmness even made Yan Wushuang feel a little surprised and jealous.

He couldn't help but start to re-examine the man in front of him, and thought to himself, this night white was definitely not a thing in the pool.

The remnants of the witcher squad quickly dissipated into the hazy morning light, leaving only a mess and blood stains all over the ground.

The members of the squad of the Southern Heavenly Demon Domain did not stop, they were like cold-blooded executioners, carrying out the final judgment on the fallen demon hunters.

Yan Wushuang stood there, like a sculpture on the battlefield, and his presence could only be felt when his big sword fell.

There was no hesitation or pity in his movements, and every swing of the knife was so decisive, as if his heart had long been accustomed to such killing, perhaps, for him, it was just part of the job.

The same is true of the surrounding demon soldiers, there is no passion for battle in their eyes, only the calmness of carrying out the mission.

They followed Yan Wushuang, like the apostles of the Grim Reaper, sending those demon hunters who still had a breath to their fate.

Yan Wushuang's broadsword brought up a string of blood flowers every time it fell, and every movement was so precise, there was no superfluous squandering.

There was no joy or sadness in his eyes, only bottomless indifference, as if none of this had anything to do with him.

This bloody massacre was undoubtedly a deep spiritual blow to the remnants of the Northern Demon Domain.

It was the first time that many of them had witnessed such a brutal scene, which cast a shadow over their psyches, and they were filled with unease and fear for the journey ahead.

Even, the corpses under Yan Wu's hands, they would not waste them, digging out the magic crystals from the brains of these dead demons one by one, and collecting them in storage bags.

Such a scene made Murong Yunhai stunned!

The cruelty of Yan Wushuang and other demons made them all feel beyond their reach.

When the team led by Yan Wushuang traversed through the endless wasteland and finally arrived at the glorious royal city of the Southern Heaven Demon Domain, Yebai and Pan Letian couldn't help but be shocked by the spectacular scene in front of them.

The royal city seems to have been built with strength and ambition, and its walls are thick and steep, like the backbone of giants, impregnable.

The vermilion battle flags flew above the city walls, each full of the arrogance and fighting spirit of the demons.

The black dragons on those banners seemed to hover in the air, fangs and claws, ready to pounce on their enemies at any moment, their images so vivid that they seemed to fly out of the banners, carrying the drums of demon war, roaring to declare their territory and glory.

This is the heart of the Southern Heaven Demon Domain, and every stone and city wall tells the history and culture of the demons.

On the city walls, stone frescoes tell ancient legends and the glory of war.

Here, every howl of the wind is like the echo of a war drum, and every ray of sunlight reflects the light of a sword.

At the gate of the Southern Heavenly Demon Domain, two rows of demon guards stood solemnly, their armor-covered figures as if they had been forged from the dark magma, with both impregnable defense and inviolable majesty.

These guards, each of them the elite of the demon race, their skin was as hot as crimson lava, while others were as deep as the night sky, and their eyes shimmered red like flames.

A few of the guards had horns on their heads or intricate, ancient patterns carved into their foreheads, which shone a faint metallic sheen in the sunlight, as sharp as their eyes.

Every breath they take seems to merge with the air around them, every movement seems to be synchronized with the earth, the muscles on their shoulders are as hard as rocks, and the strength of their legs seems to be able to shake mountains and rivers.

The guards had a variety of weapons in their hands, some were broad, sharp black battle axes capable of splitting through the strongest armor with a single axe; Some are long magic spears, the tips of which reveal a cold light, as if they can pierce through all obstacles.

The guards at the gates of the city, although they did not say a word, could feel a self-evident battle intent from the way they stood, from the way they held their weapons, and even from the constriction of their pupils.

This kind of fighting spirit is like the boiling enthusiasm in the lava lake, and like the frost solidified on the blade, revealing an indescribable tragedy.

Ye Bai and Pan Lotian passed through the rows of sculpture-like guards and stepped into the territory of the Southern Heaven Demon Domain.

There was not the slightest fear in Yebai's eyes, and his steps were firm, just like his character, decisive and resolute.

And Pan Letian was silently reciting the Ancient Refining Technique in his mind, preparing to deal with everything that might come his way.

Yan Wushuang's steps were firm and powerful, and every step he took seemed to stir up bursts of drums in the depths of his soul.

He was dressed in a battle robe, embroidered with the image of a flying dragon in the sky, each thread as if containing ancient magic, faintly echoing the power within him.

His face was calm, his eyes were like the brightest stars in the night sky, and although his face was expressionless, it made people feel a kind of calm majesty.

Yebai and Pan Letian followed behind Yan Wushuang, their gazes scanning around.

Ye Bai, despite his calm appearance, secretly observed everything in this Southern Heaven Demon Domain King City in his heart.

His Nine Nether King Body felt a strange resonance in this rich demonic aura, as if to tell him that there was a secret hidden here that could further his power.

Pan Lotian is more interested in the formation and layout here.

He could feel that this royal city was not just a place to live, every brick and tile, every tower, and even the flowing black mist were all composed of a part of a complex formation.

The Ancient Refining Technique in his heart seemed to have some subtle connection with these formations.