It was a scythe, an enormous scythe. Its blade alone was thirty feet long. Held in Zhongli Wu's hands, despite him standing only about thirty feet tall, it looked somewhat disproportionate.
Zhongli Wu's Martial Soul was far more than simple amplification and support.
It possessed formidable combat power in its own right.
That combat power came from the fusion of soul and flesh, along with the ascension of his mutated Martial Soul.
Death God Douluo Ye Xishui's Martial Soul was the Blood Soul Demon Puppet, already an exceptionally powerful existence.
Yet Zhongli Wu's Martial Soul was the Angel of Death Demon Puppet, even stronger than his mother's.
His blood-red eighth Soul Ring lit up. This was Zhongli Wu's most powerful single-target Soul Skill: Angel of Death Scythe!
Its target was Huo Yuhao, speeding through the air.
Hovering in midair, Huo Yuhao sensed the intense Soul Power fluctuations surging from below, and his expression instantly turned grave.
He could clearly sense that aura of death rapidly approaching. The bloody stench from the scythe seemed to have already pierced the air and rushed straight at his face.
"Zhongli Wu, you really never learn."
Huo Yuhao murmured softly to Zhongli Wu, making his heart shudder.
A hundred-thousand-year eighth Soul Ring was certainly formidable, especially when it was a single-target Soul Skill.
But what made Zhongli Wu think that a hundred-thousand-year Soul Skill would be enough to deal with a completely unfamiliar opponent?
His Bone Dragon King had thought itself powerful before as well.
It had only fought the Bone Dragons of the Undead Legion for one exchange before its body was bitten to pieces.
And Zhongli Wu was actually making the same mistake.
To put it bluntly, Zhongli Wu had been completely blinded by the joy of breaking through to level 99.
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