Tens of thousands of flashes of light streaked past.
The outer city of Dark Moon Stronghold was instantly filled with the Iron Blood Brotherhood's special legions that had teleported in. Xiao Liang shouted, "Leave the city in an orderly fashion."
Everyone nodded.
All four gates opened at once. Tens of thousands of troops rode their mounts to the northwest corner of Dark Moon Stronghold. After reforming their battle formations, they ran in perfect order toward the outskirts of Black Star Stronghold.
Elsewhere.
Taking this opportunity, Lu Yang led more than a million lower-god players in rapidly clearing the lower-god monsters outside the southern wall of the City of the Undead.
In just half an hour, Lu Yang had reached the inner city and spotted a massive black stronghold over fifty meters tall and five kilometers wide.
Blue, white, and green battle flags covered the stronghold. Tens of thousands of lower-god players under Roland stood atop the walls, closely watching the situation below.
Standing in the center of the gate tower was Roland. Seeing Lu Yang arrive in person, he still put on an exaggerated expression and laughed. "Lu Yang, what difference does it make even if you're here? If you can't take my stronghold within an hour and a half, your men are doomed. I suggest you give up on attacking the city."
"Summon Wings!"
Great Angel Wings appeared behind Lu Yang, carrying him fifty meters into the air. Looking at Roland's bloodshot eyes, he sighed and said, "Old Roland, why make things so difficult?"
"Old Roland?" Roland knew exactly what Lu Yang was trying to do—nothing more than persuading him to stop struggling. How could he not know that? But he refused to accept it.
"Lu Yang, stop trying to get close to me. I won't admit defeat in