Saying so, Blake paused for a moment before he turned to look at the remaining elders of the Nine Martial Alliance.
The elder with the white beard was praying to gods he had never heard of.
Another elder was prostrating before the boy while he tried to bargain for his life in exchange for his family's treasure.
Blake felt disappointed at the sight of this. He felt that his efforts to bring peace to the world 500 years ago have gone down the drain.
'Haiz, if I knew the cultivation scene would change this much back then, I would have wiped out the remaining small and medium sects while I was at it. The Nine Martial Alliance is the walking proof of my useless efforts…' Blake sighed to himself.
In the end, he merely shook his head in dismay. Even if he were to destroy all of the current big sects today, someone would be bound to take their places.
"The elders looked incredibly pitiful now, don't you think?"
To make matters worse, almighty Martial Generals like them were being looked down upon by cultivation juniors like Zack and Willford.
Some elders considered taking Blake's friends as hostage, but they soon discarded those thoughts quickly.
They were all terrified of Blake who could kill them off with a simple wave of his hands.
Besides cowering in fear, these century old Martial Generals were uncertain whether they'd make it out alive of this hellhole.
No one wanted to die after all.
Even when death was right in front of them, they did everything they could to avoid death for as long as possible.
Blake looked on at the group of old men for a while longer.
'If these old fogeys keep stalling for time, I might just kill them off. I have more important things to do than to entertain these disappointments.' Blake sighed to himself.
1 hour later…
Blake wiped away the blood on the floor using a magic spell.
He then turned towards his friends and said, "Alright, now that the old men of the Nine Martial Alliance are dead, be prepared. As the saying goes, kill the young one, the old one comes. Kill the old one, the ancestor comes. Kill the ancestor, the founder comes."
"We need to be prepared at all times in case the ancestor and founder come knocking at the clan's doors."
Zack, Amelia and Willford simply nodded at his words. They paid no heed to Blake's warning since Blake would be there to kill the ancestor and founder anyways.
Just then, dark clouds appeared in the horizon, blocking out the Sun and causing the sky to darken.
Countless lightning bolts fell around the vicinity of the clan's walls, just barely missing the infrastructure by a hair's breadth.
"Odd, the weather forecast said that the day would be sunny till 7pm today. It's only 2pm. Why is there a thunderstorm above our heads?" Zack was mopping the floor when he noticed the sky darkening.
He took out his phone to check the weather forecast, but frowned when he saw that there was no signal.
Soon, he suspected that the thunderstorm happening outside was not natural. But then again, was there anyone capable of manipulating nature in the current generation?
Blake could probably do it with his high cultivation. But that was it. All the other cultivation powerhouses in the current era were two great realms lower than that of Blake.
'Unless…' Unable to hold his curiosity, Zack dropped the mop on the floor before he walked towards Blake's residence.
When he arrived, he was surprised to see that Amelia and Willford had gotten there before him. It seems like all three of them had thought of the same question.
Zack revealed a slight smile at the thought of this. 'This must be why we are friends.'
Blake's residence
After his three friends were seated, Blake handed each one of them a cup of water. He then sat opposite of them.
A moment of silence ensued.
To break the silence, Blake made the first move and asked, "Tell me, what brings you to the clan leader's residence?"
His three friends looked at each other for a moment before they came to a silent agreement. Willford will be the one to ask Blake their question.
Willford took a deep breath to calm himself. For some odd reason, he was feeling nervous. He was just going to ask Blake a question.
"Blake, do you know any way to control–"
Boom!
Willford was halfway through his question when a loud explosion occurred and cut him off. Blake furrowed his brows as his house shook violently.
"Seems like the ancestors of the dead old men have arrived."
Blake downed his cup of water before he stood up. With a wave of his hand, he sliced the fabric of space and time in front of him.
He then connected the hole in space to the entrance of his clan using a spatial manipulation magic spell.
" Follow me, it'd be discourteous of the Chaos Clan to have them wait outside." He gestured for his friends to follow after him.
He then stepped into the portal and disappeared.
His friends hesitated for a moment before they too entered the portal.
When they came to be, the trio couldn't help but reveal looks of shock and horror.
An army made of martial cultivators from all realms was standing menacingly in front of the Chaos Clan's gate.
When the army saw Blake and his friends appear in front of them, they became vigilant as they readied their weapons. They were prepared to rush at the kids as long as their commanders gave the order.
"My my my, what do we have here? An army composed of Martial Private all the way to Martial General. The commanders of this army are a bunch of Martial Commanders…Wow, you guys must be really pissed."
With Blake's cultivation being higher than the entire army, he couldn't help but become arrogant.
He thus provoked the hell out of his enemies for as long as he could.
"What? Cat caught your tongue? Oh so sad, boo hoo. My sect's elder died at the hands of some unknown brat's devious schemes. Life is not fair. Hey, I thought of a great idea, let's summon our sect's ancestor to help us take revenge. Hmph, not only did the ancestors come after the old was killed, even the young ones came to help. So sweet."
Blake smiled deviously. He couldn't wait to spam fireballs at his enemies till nothing was left of them.
Of course, he was waiting for them to make the first move so that he would be justified for self defense.