Thus, Seven Mysterious Mountain was swept clean.
Wherever Chen Jichuan went, not a single tile was left, everything was emptied.
Two quarters passed.
Three quarters passed.
Four quarters passed.
Time flew by, and Chen Jichuan and his companions had already been in Seven Mysterious Mountain for an hour.
...
"It's about time to retreat."
The Seven-fingered Daoist still had no harvest.
His formerly composed face now looked as dark as the bottom of a pot.
Unwillingness and rage filled his heart, but his reason remained intact.
An hour had passed.
The countless flying ants in Seven Mysterious Mountain had all been mobilized, carrying out a full-scale siege against the intruders like the Seven-fingered Daoist. If they didn't leave now and allowed the encirclement to solidify, not even someone like the Seven-fingered Daoist, an Eleventh Tribulation Independent Immortal, would be able to escape.
Coming here for nothing wasn't a problem.
