Ling Xiaoxiao's words ignited hope instantly among the disciples of the Profound Gate Holy Temple.
The fear and despair in their hearts vanished in an instant.
At this moment, they felt extremely happy.
"Consider yourselves lucky. Since Xiaoxiao has spoken, we'll spare your lives."
Liu Qingyang had already approached a disciple at the Saint Emperor Realm, just about to slash with the Sacred Sword, but he stopped.
If Ling Xiaoxiao hadn't spoken in time, Liu Qingyang truly wouldn't have stopped.
The Sacred Sword hovered at the disciple's neck, scaring him so much that his soul almost departed, his eyes tightly shut.
Liu Qingyang gracefully withdrew the Sacred Sword, waved his hand, and said with a smile: "Alright, disperse. Hurry up and leave, or soon you might not be able to leave even if you want to."
