Cannon Fodder

Seeing the cultivators from the Black Turtle Continent taking action, Feng Fan couldn't help but grin. The chaos of battle had reached its peak, with blood splattering the ground and corpses piling up like broken dolls. 

He glanced at the others, then cracked his knuckles.

"Little Brick, we can't be left out of the fun, right?" he muttered, his grin widening.

With a flash, the Suppression Relic materialized in his hand, humming with happiness as it left his space ring. Feng Fan lunged forward, targeting the closest foreign cultivator to him.

Most of them were fleeing in panic from Xue Qiang's brutal onslaught, like cornered rats scrambling for safety.

Feng Fan moved like a blur, his speed making him little more than a shadow across the battlefield. Before the unfortunate cultivator even knew what hit him, Feng Fan slammed the Suppression Relic down on his head, leaving behind a grotesque crunch.