The Supreme God of Martial Arts novel Chapter 1455

'The Vasteras Holy Land?'

Austin thought. Surveying the aura around them, he surmised these were people difficult to deal with.

In Austin's Soul Sea, the Flame Emperor whispered to him everything he needed to know about the Vasteras Holy Land.

"There are countless countries and sects in the Divine Continent.

Still, hierarchies and the quest to stay in power remained prevalent.

In the case of the Divine Continent, the holy lands possess the seat of power and the aristocratic families hold the metaphorical crown.

You must take note that there are three holy lands and three aristocratic families in the East Mainland.

And the Vasteras Holy Land is one of those holy lands. Didn't I say they were powerful?"

"You couldn't have emphasized it more," Austin said.

He understood everything.

The team of the Vasteras Holy Land was catching up to them.

The Vasteras Holy Land's display of splendor and momentum was extraordinary. It was nothing like Austin had ever seen.

Meanwhile, it was quite a challenge to fathom the monstrosity of the beasts that were also there, demonic and diabolic. An armored and rough-looking soldier sat proudly on one of the beasts. He had a huge "Vasteras Holy Land" flag that billowed along with the roaring winds.

The Vasteras Holy Land team charged forward with utter menace and terror. Its people cried out, and its beasts roared with a murderous will.

Austin had kept his composure so far until he was startled to find that amongst the people of Vasteras Holy Land, there were a dozen masters at the Divine Bridge Realm.

"People, stop fighting over magic treasures!

All the magic treasures you got just now should be turned over in our Vasteras Holy Land. Anyone – and I mean, anyone – who secretly keeps intelligent magic treasures, we must kill him!"

The thundering, commanding voice came from the team of the Vasteras Holy Land.

"Ha! So bossy!"

someone yelled nonchalantly from another direction.

Then, with rumbles of rage, over twenty chariots emerged. There was so much wrath that the sky seemed to have trembled.

The people of the Vasteras Holy Land ascertained who they were up against. It was the Sikong Clan, one of the aristocratic families.

The former stood on the ground with heightened vigilance. They were ready to fight the Sikong Clan.

Battle was almost a breath away, but the Vasteras Holy Land team and the Sikong Clan seemed to take their time in examining each other and giving each other threatening stares.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, do I smell fear? Do you think you can relish the treasure left by a great master all for yourselves?"

A middle-aged man in yellow with a purple hat alighted the headmost chariot of the Sikong Clan.

He floated in the air so effortlessly, as if he was a child of the sky.

People who couldn't take their eyes off of him also couldn't afford to breathe freely. Circulations of their energy meridians de-escalated.

Those with a weak cultivation base didn't dare look at him, or else they might perish on the spot.

This man resembled a fearsome king, merciless in making weaker people feel like they were beggars, like they did not deserve to even have a glimpse of him.

"Hmm! We get what we want, and we desert what we take. Any problem with that?"

the previously commanding and confident person from Vasteras Holy Land said this time.

After standing face to face each other for a while, the two groups seemed to have dialed down with the spine-tingling glares.

Neither of them would give up the search for more treasures. It was just a matter of winning against the other.

"C'mon! Let's just deal with the treasures.

Teams from other holy lands and aristocratic families are heading here as well.

Be strategic! If we hustle at this very moment, we may be able to possess more of these treasures,"

the man in yellow exclaimed.

"Agreed!"

the man of the Vasteras Holy Land replied with clarity and firmness in his voice.

Both teams of the Vasteras Holy Land and Sikong Clan simultaneously sprinted to the old palace situated on a crater, as if they heard a signal gunshot for the start of a marathon.