"It seems there are still some people who didn't get buried, might as well take care of them on the way!" The Great Elder of the Tyrant Blade Sect scanned Ye Feng's group with a detached gaze, issuing a low and chilly voice.
Upon hearing this, the disciples of various sects felt their hair stand on end.
At this stage, other people had been buried under giant rocks, quicksand, and soil—even if their lives weren't in danger, they wouldn't be able to escape anytime soon.
With just these dozen or so little shrimps, they wouldn't even suffice to fill the gap between the Great Elder's teeth!
"It's over, we're done for!"
"No! I think we can still save ourselves, after all, we still have Sect Master Ye from the Misty Sect, right?"
"Crap! Sect Master Ye is just a mortal, more like a mascot. The fact he's still alive at this point is just good luck, relying on him is less realistic than buying a coffin right now."
The disciples from all the major sects were on the verge of tears.
