Recommendation tickets
Bing Ruibo was trapped in desperate straits. The scorching flames spewed by the Crimson Flame Demon Tiger surged toward him like a raging tide, the searing heat seeming about to burn him to ash. The stench of death clung to him like maggots burrowing into his bones.
At that critical instant, with his life hanging by a thread, a dazzling radiance suddenly erupted from the summit of Phoenix Mountain, as if a god had swept a brush through the air, sketching a pillar of light that pierced the heavens above the dim battlefield.
Within the light, a figure swiftly emerged. It was an old man dressed in a plain white robe.
He stood like an ancient pine, proud and upright. The Soul Power around him was as gentle as a murmuring stream, yet it concealed a deep, majestic force like the boundless sea. With every step he took, it seemed the wind and clouds followed.
The old man's gaze burned bright, instantly locking onto Bing Ruibo, who was trapped by the flames.
He waved both hands with easy grace, and a massive Soul Power shield appeared out of nowhere, like a crystal-clear yet indestructible glass barrier, standing firmly before Bing Ruibo.
The scorching flames slammed into the shield, yet vanished without a trace as if sinking into the sea.
"A Titled Douluo!"
No one knew who cried out first, but that shout was like a boulder dropped into a still lake, sending ripples through the army.
The old man's eyes sharpened, and a Black Soul Ring rippled outward around him. That profound black seemed to contain endless mysteries and power.
"Eighth Soul Skill—Sun Beam!"
He roared, his voice like a great bell, resounding through heaven and earth.
In an instant, a blazing, dazzling beam of light shot