Pests have only one entity.

Today, he is very excited.

Because after waiting for a long time after the signal was sent, we could finally launch an attack and launch a blood feud against the hateful human race and the damned human beings.

Revenge, yes, revenge!

Ever since it became conscious, it has been able to hear countless wails.

Those are its compatriots, those are its blood and bones.

They were brutally killed by the human race, using countless methods.

Poison to death, trample to death, crush to death, beat to death, burn to death.

Too many.

And the reason is simply because they are pests, harmful and powerless to the human race.

Therefore, they must die.

It does not accept or acknowledge it, it hates it.

For hundreds of years, day and night, it has looked at the mortal world, and dreamed countless times that it was so fierce that it killed itself, and its children destroyed the human race like waves.

The blood and fire burned the human cities into ruins.

Wailing is a song composed for it by the human race.

It will be in the ruins, enjoying the destruction of the human race and drinking the blood of its enemies.

Pile their corpses high and use the numerous bones to make your own throne, where you will sing the praises of this great victory.

However, when that moment finally came, that day finally came.

The human race is missing!

Everyone's has disappeared.

The originally huge city, the paradise it had longed for for countless years, evaporated, leaving only a huge void, like a silent mockery.

The Insect King is crazy, and a hole has been burned in its heart by the rage of revenge, a huge hole that cannot be filled.

I thought I could get what I wanted today and recreate the scene in my dream.

As a result, there was nothing.

It frantically explored the surroundings, and finally found the remaining human race in front of the entrance that it longed for countless water moons to break through.

Taking control of his army, the Insect King rushed over.

There are not many people inside, only tens of thousands, and there is no fairyland yet.

There is no doubt that the Insect King can easily crush such a team, crush them in an instant, tear these damn humans into pieces, and completely eliminate them.

But it endured.

It hated it so much, and the fire rising in its heart burned too fiercely, completely igniting the emptiness and extraordinary desire in its heart.

Not so fast, not letting them take it easy.

It urgently needs to scream, urgently needs to wail, urgently needs the desperate cries of the human race.

Otherwise, it will go crazy, completely crazy.

Attack, attack, attack.

Consume, consume, consume.

Don't kill, don't kill anyone.

Cut off their limbs, pierce their bodies, draw their blood, bring them over, bring them all over.

Little by little, I will wear them down, crush their will, destroy their hopes, and send them to hell. I want to look at their remains and listen to their wails as they fall asleep.

I also want to know, where did the other people go?

It will not stop until the last human race dies in front of it with eyes open.

The insect king kept shouting and chirping one after another, seriously injuring them, but do not kill them, especially the elderly, children, women and children, do not kill any of them.

Bite their limbs into pieces, stick them on the horns, and shake their bodies to show the resisting humans and drive them crazy.

Its eyes were ferocious, its expression terrifying, and one cruel scene after another kept popping up in its mind.

It wants to eat their children, eat their lovers, torture them, and watch them die in silence in front of those soldiers.

It is barking and even laughing.

Although it is very different from what was expected, tens of thousands of people can more or less fill the empty heart.

No rush, no rush.

Don't rush!

Sooner or later, sooner or later.

The human race has been defeated and finished.

All it has to do is harvest, and it means harvesting without listening. Sooner or later, bones will be piled under it, forming a throne.

By the way, it can also be cultivated and raised. There are humans in the Earthly Immortal Realm. It once saw human beings raised in cages.

Although it wasn't much, it gave it a hint and helped it find its direction.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Ahead, the battle continues, and the demon-conquering army is fighting.

No fear, no fear, no screaming, no wailing.

Kill, kill, kill!

Blood? Hate?

Doesn’t the human race have it? Doesn’t it?

It has been accumulated in the bottom of my heart for a long time, and it has been precipitated in my heart for a long time.

There are too many fallen comrades and dead relatives.

Look behind them. Not far behind where they are guarding, there is a palace, a huge palace that is mainly black.

The building is solemn and majestic, taller and more majestic than all the buildings here.

But it is not a residence for the living, but a tombstone for the dead.

Every one of the tens of thousands of soldiers and civilians of the Demon Expedition Army in the North had wrinkled hearts. Although they were still beating freshly, they seemed to be dry and wrinkled.

Most people have stayed here for several years, ten years, or decades.

The only purpose of living is to kill insects and kill these pests.

Some people died because of their comrades, some because their parents died, and some people lost their loved ones when pests attacked the city.

Ninety-nine percent of the people who choose to stay here have a blood feud with the pests.

No one ran away or retreated.

If the hand is broken, use the leg; if the leg is broken, use the mouth.

They didn't know what was happening. When they saw the pests coming from the south, everyone went crazy and blood was flowing.

Tens of minutes have passed since the bloody battle. The position has retreated for more than a thousand meters. Countless blood is spilled at every step. More than 50,000 demon-conquering troops, less than a thousand meters away, have fallen forever.

Ten thousand, exactly twenty thousand.

There are martial arts realms, magic power realms, and magical power realms.

There were old men and women inside. Their eyes were red and veins were bursting on their faces. They were waving the weapons in their hands crazily and engaging in bloody battles with their children and husbands.

"Hold on, hold on!"

An old man kept shouting, "Kill, kill, kill! Buy time, buy time for the children."

In the demon-conquering army, there are naturally children, children with family members, and students who come for internships.

The moment the battle started, these children were gathered together and led back.

The troops behind them were not fast, because there were enemies blocking the road in front, and a small number of elites were also fighting, fighting madly.

With broken hands and broken legs, even if he fell to the ground, he would still move his body crazily, using his teeth as weapons to bite the enemy.

Before you die, you must give it to your children, to the human race, to carve out a sky and a future.

Even the eight-year-old children did not cry or scream at this moment. Their eyes were wide open and they stared at the pests. They hated them so much that they went crazy with hate.

Each of them held the smaller children by their little hands, held them in their arms, and held them with their small bodies.

Layer after layer, the outside is twelve years old, and the outside is eighteen years old.

Outside are students who have just arrived for internship.

There were originally six to seven thousand people in the team, but within just a few dozen minutes, two to three thousand people had been lost.
To be continued...