Inside Tianqing Square.
Zhang Xiaohao crossed his hands behind his back, suspended in the air, taking out a panda cigarette, lazily taking a drag, and puffing out a stream of smoke from time to time. His cold, disdainful eyes gazed at the nearly three million cultivators opposite, as if watching a play.
As time progressed, with each passing minute and second, countless cultivators fell to the ground.
All kinds of attack methods were being displayed successively from their hands, fiercely slaughtering towards their opponents.
Rare odd attacks that were hard to come by ordinarily, as well as spirit worms and spirit beasts, were madly unleashed as they made their move.
In the sky, countless colors of attacks shot out, creating massive pressure. Strong waves of air emanated from these attacks, fiercely targeting their opponents.
Compared to what was happening in front of them, any fancy Marvel special effects film or fairy-tale TV series was just trash.
