"Alright, the few people I just pointed out, and you, come over here."
Seeing the crimson-robed youth agree to his suggestion, a smile appeared on Feng Wuyin's face. He pointed at Li Yun and the others again and said calmly, "You few, go forward one by one in the order I just called. Remember, I treat everyone equally. As long as you can cross a hundred meters, I can exempt you from being cannon fodder and let you become members of the Ironblood Sect."
"Now, get moving."
Under Feng Wuyin's shouting, a cultivator as thin as dried firewood walked out with a bitter expression and cautiously stepped through the gate.
Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!
Just as he took the first step, countless Sword Lights flickered and crisscrossed, instantly submerging him. In an instant, he was completely torn apart, dying a tragic death.
Seeing this, Feng Wuyin's eyes flickered. He exchanged glances with Elder Chen Ming and the crimson-robed youth, then could not help nodding.
"Next."
