Pangong Tso and a bunch of great shamans and shaman kings had made their way to the entrance of the abyss. The several hundred divine arts practitioners of Barbarian Di Empire were left with less than a hundred people. All the others had died in this strange and unpredictable forest of Ghost Valley.
Even if there had been countless expeditions of Rolan's Golden Palace's great shamans who had explored this place in the past, the large-scaled exploration this time still resulted in great casualties.
To Pangong Tso, it didn't matter how many people had died as long as he wasn't one of them The lives of these soldiers, great shamans, and even shaman kings were disposable. The purpose of bringing all these people was to have them protect him, to use their corpses to pave out a path to the center of Ghost Valley.
As an old monster that had lived for ten thousand years, he could overlook the lives of anyone. The only one he treasured was himself.
