Cui Wenwei and the others stared dumbfounded at Zhao Changhe, gulping instinctively.0

Though Zhao Changhe was clearly at the end of his rope, his imposing aura remained so powerful that no one dared test that. Cui Wenwei, a ranked warrior, stood alongside countless elite family members in his own territory, yet not a single one of them dared lift a finger.0

The terror of a slaughterer of gods lingered in the air; while his fearsome presence had not affected Desolate Calamity, it was most certainly echoing through the hearts of all others—an aftershock of psychological pressure now also carrying the weight of the god’s defeat. 0

In this moment, Zhao Changhe seemed invincible in their eyes.0

If the choice between Zhao Changhe and a demon god was previously influenced by considerations beyond clan interest, those considerations pertained to the fear-inducing disparity in strength.0

When confronted with a terrifyingly powerful demon god who could annihilate an entire clan alone, one instinctively believed in their promises—”He has no reason to deceive me.” 0

Subconsciously, it offered an excuse for their fear—”I am cooperating purely for the benefit of the clan.”0

And also admiration for strength—”Following him ensures success.”0

Such is...0