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A dark current stirred in the depths of Li Lingfeng's eyes. "The Chen Clan really did have a backup plan. Another Titled Douluo. They hid him deeply enough."
Luo Derun's knuckles took on an iron hue. "Immovable as a Mountain—Zhu Hongzhen! That old bastard actually clung to life until now..."
A sound like molted snakeskin scraping rolled from his throat. "Sixty years ago at Luori Gorge, he dragged half a ruined body down into the mountain stream. How could he still break into the Titled realm?"
Li Lingfeng's black robe stirred without wind. "So it was him. He was Chen Zixiu's long-term attendant, wasn't he already over a hundred and twenty?"
"Fine Chen Clan indeed... rank 94, so he broke through decades ago, didn't he?" A cold laugh leaked through Luo Derun's teeth as his murky eyes turned toward the battlefield below. "Truly... what a fine ancestral talent for hiding in a shell."
At the center of the battlefield, where blood and fire had spread like a prairie blaze, the Crimson Church's remaining two Titled Douluo exchanged a glance.
Dark energy surged around Ming Xiangyun. "That old bone of the Zhu Clan is somewhat troublesome. I'll handle him. Changtai, go kill the target quickly."
Before his words had even fallen, his figure had already turned into a wisp of ink smoke skimming close to the ground, shooting straight toward Zhu Hongzhen, who was locked in a head-on clash with Luo Ping. The Dark Fiend Scythe edge and Zhu Hongzhen's Stone Armor Shield crashed together with a boom, sparks splashing like blood rain.
Ming Xiangyun, rank 96, third of the Seven Demon Generals.
Where that wisp of black smoke passed, shattered bricks on the ground silently turned