The whole space was filled with colorful and mysterious miasma. Voices shouting out loud, "Do not need to be saved" and "Meng Qi is the real devil."
Meng Qi held the blade in his left hand with his right hand hung naturally. He stood in the mountain and his black robe floated in the air. Meng Qi said calmly:
"If I come here without a care for your own lives and was just a devil who wanted to earn benefits for oneself, why should I care then about how you think? To save you or not is not decided by you."
The voice was slow and peaceful but went to different pictures and rang beside the ears of different tribes clearly.
Those tribes suddenly quieted down. The Poison God was shocked by his power of sending messages accurately through his own connection of poison art. He himself could not do it. This was like magic arts.
