Boom!
A crimson river stretched across the heavens, its waves of force roaring like thunder, shaking heaven and earth.
Jiang Luo raised his bloodstained saber high. It seemed to have drunk deep of the blood of countless living beings, its blade flashing with an eerie red glow.
With a low shout, he summoned red clouds that filled the sky. The cloud layer was heavy as lead, and as it churned, a torrential rain of blood poured down. Every drop could corrode flesh, defile the Primordial Spirit, and sweep away all vitality.
Wherever the blood rain passed, grass and trees withered, rocks cracked apart, and even the air grew thick and viscous, like a deadland of utter despair.
Those damned junior sisters from Sword Heart Studio had met their bitter end beneath this move. The moment they encountered it, they became Jiang Luo's puppets, controlled by him against their will.
"Trifling blood rain, and you dare flaunt your might before the Zhu clan?"
Yet Zhu Dang stood amid the curtain of blood. Crimson rain slid over his cold, stern face, but he remained utterly unmoved.
The Zhu clan's inherited ultimate art had evolved from battlefield formation techniques. It emphasized growing stronger with every battle and fearing no bloodshed. If Disaster of Bloodlight came knocking, well, that was practically a buff for the old Zhu family to fight ever more fiercely.
Thus, when Zhu Dang saw the blood rain spanning the sky, not only did he not panic in the slightest, he simply accepted the buff as it came.
In other words, he had received professional training—otherwise, he would have laughed out loud already.
Zhu Dang's presence surged again and again within the rain curtain. The instant it reached its peak, his hands formed seals, and the true essence around him abruptly