Despite such thoughts in his heart, these descending Demon Ghosts simply did not give him the opportunity.
A Demon Ghost, towering a thousand zhang in height, did not even bother glancing at these "ants," merely blowing a breath of air.
The small teahouse was flipped onto the ground by a violent gust of cold wind, with the tea shop owner hugging his daughter tightly, barely avoiding being blown away.
Possibly because fear had reached an extreme, he waved the kitchen knife with all the strength he had in life and roared furiously, "Fiend, come at me! I'll fight you to the end!"
The Demon Ghost heard the shout, looked down to find a mortal waving something wildly like a madman, let out a grim laugh, and then lifted its foot to stomp down.
For such beings, Cultivators are mortal enemies, while ordinary people are less than ants.
But at the moment its foot was about to fall.
