Survival of Despair

"I was right! Only tens of thousands?"

Ling Tian stared coldly at the tens of thousands of blood corpses in the blood-colored Burial Sea. His gaze was cold and his cold face was filled with mockery.

Clearly, this could not be compared to the Corpse Ancestor at his peak.

Legend had it that in ancient books, the Corpse Ancestor moved out, and a million blood corpses followed him. The sky was vast and mighty, and the Yin soldiers shook the Nine Heavens.

Such a commotion was terrifying just by hearing it. However, compared to what they were seeing now, it was only the tip of the iceberg. It could not even reach one ten-thousandth of it.

"Everyone, don't panic! His current strength is less than ten percent. The number of blood corpse puppets he can summon is only tens of thousands. As long as we work together, we will definitely win." Daoist Tianfeng shouted and stabilized the morale of the army.