Demon Lyre Douluo Mo Zihong

After Tang Wulin was sent flying again, he no longer dared to set his sights on the Dark Demon Dragon.

He could only settle for less and farm the wilds.

He had wasted quite a lot of time just now.

During the time he had wasted, the other team members had all begun fighting the War God Hall.

Both sides had suffered losses, and the scales of victory had yet to tip toward either side.

After Tang Wulin was knocked away by the Dark Demon Dragon, Lan Muzi glanced in that direction from the middle lane and continued onward.

He arrived near the riverbank. Within this War God Arena, only the middle lane had a large bridge connecting the two sides.

From here, he could see the War God Hall's main base in the distance.

The main base lay at the far end of the straight middle lane.

At that moment, the War God Hall's control-type Soul Master, Demon Lyre Douluo Mo Zihong, appeared in his sight.

His features were ancient and composed, carrying a touch of elegance. His long hair was parted down the middle, hanging along both sides of his face.

His entire body seemed to exude a faint sense of rhythm.

After reaching the opposite side of the bridge, a lyre appeared in his hands.

It was a purple, crystal-like ancient lyre resting across his knees.

Demon Lyre Douluo Mo Zihong sat cross-legged and began to play.

At once, a melodious tune rang out, naturally carrying a strange infectious quality.

It began affecting Lan Muzi from the very first note.

A distinct trace of fatigue immediately rose in his heart.

The feeling was extremely unpleasant.

At that moment, Lan Muzi truly felt his own exhaustion, a weariness that came from the depths of his heart.

Then, all