Who was Linghu Hongfei? He was the foremost genius of the Linghu Heavenly Clan, the head of the Ten Stars of Ancestral Martial.
Even a genius of Linghu Tiemian's caliber would be completely overshadowed in Linghu Hongfei's presence.
He was a true monster — the pride of the Linghu Heavenly Clan.
In this era, if geniuses could be ranked by tiers, then all other geniuses belonged to one tier, while Linghu Hongfei alone occupied a tier of his own.
Because he was the kind of existence that other geniuses could not even begin to compare with, let alone reach.
And yet, someone had actually taken a person who had once been hailed as a trash incapable of cultivation and compared him to Linghu Hongfei. Naturally, the people of the Linghu Heavenly Clan were far from pleased.
"Hmph, all he did was summon the Sacred Spirit Light Formation — whether he can even enter it remains to be seen, and yet in your mouths he's already been elevated to someone comparable to Linghu Hongfei?"
"You people think far too highly of this Chu Feng!"
"Besides, even back in the day, Chu Hanxian and Chu Xuanyuan never caused much of a stir in the Ancestral Martial Starfield. In terms of fame alone, they couldn't compare to the current Linghu Hongfei, let alone their descendant."
Just as everyone was marveling at Chu Feng's strength, a voice dripping with sarcasm cut through the air.
This mocking voice did not come from the Linghu Heavenly Clan. It belonged to the strongest representative of the Nightmare Spirit Clan in the Ancestral Martial Cultivation World — Miesha of the Nightmare Clan.
Although all members of the Nightmare Spirit Clan wore black robes that concealed their appearances entirely, Miesha had a distinctly recognizable voice, and the aura of a Fourth Grade Martial Immortal radiating from him was completely unrestrained.
The moment he spoke, everyone knew who it was.
Miesha was not merely a prodigiously talented individual — he was also an utterly ruthless killing machine.
His real name was not Miesha. He had given himself that name.
He had chosen it because he had sworn an oath: anyone who stood against him would have their entire clan exterminated, with not a single soul left alive.
And in truth, he had been fulfilling that oath ever since. Unless the family in question was powerful enough to be beyond his reach, any lesser clan that dared oppose him had felt the full weight of his wrath.
Total annihilation, without a shred of mercy. Though he was still a junior under three hundred years of age, the number of lives lost at his hands numbered in the hundreds of millions.
At one point, in a fit of rage, he had slaughtered every living being in an entire mortal world.
But that was only what people knew about. The true number of those who had perished by his hand, unknown to the public, was far greater still.
He was a genuine mass murderer, his hands drenched in countless drops of blood.
To call him a demon would not have been an exaggeration.
The only difference was that he never killed without reason — he always found a justification for his actions, which left others with little ground to condemn him.
Regardless, everyone understood clearly that this was not someone to be trifled with.
Because of this, when he opened his mouth, the crowd that had been buzzing with discussion fell silent.
In terms of pure strength, Miesha might not have surpassed Linghu Tiemian, but when it came to ruthlessness and cruelty, even Linghu Tiemian likely could not match him.
Nobody wanted to make an enemy of someone like that.
Moreover, it was perfectly clear from his words that he held Chu Feng in utter contempt.
Under these circumstances, who would dare continue praising Chu Feng?