In the air, the corpses of the three fiend sects were suspended by the black threads. Their magic power was instantly extracted by the black threads.
Zi Ji, Cult Master Xiaoyao, the Night Soul Lord, and the rest had pale faces. Blood flowed from the corners of their mouths as their auras weakened.
Their eyes were filled with shock and reluctance.
They never imagined that they would die in the hands of such a demon while cultivating the demonic path. It was simply ironic.
The demon in front of them was too powerful. So powerful that the fiend sect experts could barely put up any resistance. They were as weak as an ant, and any struggle or resistance was as useless as an ant shaking a tree.
"Am I going to die here today?" Night Soul Lord could not accept this, but he could not muster any strength. Even breathing was difficult.
Meanwhile, Night Whisper was also reluctant to accept this fate.
