Cloud Coming Square.
The original workshop had long been leveled, and now a black military camp stood there.
In front of the camp were heads displayed on stakes, all belonging to unruly cultivators who had been decapitated by the guardian guards, forming a grim display.
It turned out that even without top-level combat strength, in mid to lower tier battles, the cultivators had no real advantage.
Disorganized cultivators were crushed by more efficient professional allocations and stricter military discipline...
Within the military camp.
The Black Dharma King stepped into the tent and saw the Poison Hand Scholar holding a wine pot, pouring and drinking by himself.
He suddenly felt a chill.
After all, the Poison Hand Scholar had completely destroyed his flesh, leaving only the thoughts of a Yang God.
Yet at this moment, he was behaving indistinguishably from a living person.
