Lynch slowly descended onto the clearing, his silver hair as frost fluttering in the wind.
The surviving members of the Dark Moon Church were pale, their expressions panic-stricken, and their bodies uncontrollably trembling.
It seemed as if standing before them was not a human, but a terrifying ancient demon.
"Please... don't kill us..."
"Spare us! Master, please spare us..."
Before Lynch could speak, they had already kneeled on the ground, kowtowing and begging for mercy.
Lynch glanced around and said softly, "Everyone, quiet."
Instantly, the place fell silent.
The members of the Dark Moon Church all covered their mouths, as if even their breathing had to cease.
Lynch spoke: "Your Witch Master, Tarim, has already been eliminated by me."
After pausing, he casually swept his gaze forward and asked, "If anyone is dissatisfied with this, you can step forward now and discuss it with me."
