In that instant, Yang Yan's gaze swept over them.
Some of the timid sect disciples had already wet their pants.
Fear!
Their hearts trembled, and their legs were weak.
Even though their cultivation was much stronger than the cultivators in the human world,
in the presence of Yang Yan, whose momentum was at its peak, they felt only terror.
Afraid of death!
Yang Yan bore them a grudge, and coupled with his notorious titles, God of Killing, Plague God,
only the title of King Yan was missing for him.
But the most crucial point was, Yang Yan might kill at any moment, and the slightest thing could provoke him.
When Yang Yan moved to kill, it wasn't as simple as killing just one person.
In one strike, Yang Yan might kill dozens, even hundreds, and could even obliterate an entire sect's cultivators.
The opponent was too powerful and too cold-hearted.
How could they not be afraid, not be trembling with fear?
