Lao Tang rolled his eyes at him. "How would that be possible? Never mind whether one Dragon King could control another Dragon King's followers—these aren't ordinary Dead Servants at all. They're the undead wandering the Nibelungen, bound here by a Dragon King's authority. They lost their minds long ago."
"Undead? Nibelungen? What does that mean?" The more Lu Mingfei listened, the more confused he became.
"To put it simply, they're Dragons or Hybrids that died a long time ago, then were 'preserved' by the special rules of this Nibelungen and turned into killing tools that only obey the current master of this domain." Lao Tang spoke quickly, his eyes fixed on the enemies drawing closer and closer. "And the only ones who could create a Nibelungen on this scale would be Jormungandr and the others... I'm afraid Jormungandr is about to become Hela."
Lu Mingfei had no idea what Lao Tang was talking about. How could Jormungandr, who had been perfectly fine, turn into Hela?
But given the current situation, it seemed they could only pin their hopes on Mo Wang. "Old Mo, what do we do now? Fight or run?"
Mo Wang did not answer. He merely watched in silence as the enemies surged toward them like a tide. The eyes that always carried a frivolous, mocking smile gradually settled, and then a gleam of brilliant gold ignited in the deepest part of his pupils.
That gold spread rapidly until it occupied his entire eye sockets, majestic and ancient, like molten gold.
Lu Mingfei and Lao Tang simultaneously felt an indescribable pressure, as if the air around them had become heavy and viscous.
Then, under their horrified gazes, Mo Wang's body began to change!
His bones cracked with explosive pops, his body swelling rapidly. His skin was covered in