Within the mountain stronghold, hundreds of demonic figures exuded a murderous aura that soared to the heavens.
Yet, in the instant they laid eyes on Lin Yuan, they all dropped to their knees, completely unable to resist.
This was an indomitable suppression stemming from the depths of the soul, as if all demonic cultivators in the world were under his jurisdiction.
"How is this possible?" Bian Mao, a sinister young man, was prostrate on the ground, unable to move.
Inwardly, a storm of disbelief raged within him.
With his strength, he could escape even if he couldn't defeat the pinnacle of the ninth realm.
But now, not only was he kneeling, all the forbidden techniques of his demonic ways within him were silent.
It was utterly inconceivable.
"This Xiahou Yuan..."
A chill ran through Bian Mao's heart.
At last, he understood why those who had experienced the era thirty years ago looked so terrified upon hearing of Xiahou Yuan emerging from the Great Abyss.
They lacked even the thought of opposition, let alone hunting him.
Back then, Bian Mao had dismissed their fears, mocking the veteran demons as cowards scared senseless by Xiahou Yuan, unable to recover their courage even after decades.