The moon was mostly hidden behind clouds over the Mingdou Mountain Range that night.
The Allied Army camp was ablaze with light. Six Titled Douluo sat in the main tent, passing around the wine again and again, all of them wearing confident smiles.
"That Xu Yanli has been throwing his weight around in Star Luo City, thinking Long Xiaoyao has his back. Let's see him squirm his way out of this one." The Titled Douluo from the Star Luo Empire set down his cup and snorted.
The Heaven Dou Empire's commander nodded. "With Long Xiaoyao away, all he has left by his side are a few sorry excuses. We've got six Titled Douluo and dozens of Soul Douluo. Flattening his Prince's Mansion will be a piece of cake."
"I heard he became a Titled Douluo at just sixteen?" The commander from the Dou Ling Empire sounded more than a little envious.
"So what if he's a sixteen-year-old Titled Douluo? After tonight, there won't be any Prince Xiaoyao in the Sun Moon Empire."
They exchanged smiles and raised their cups.
A gust of wind suddenly swept past the tent.
It wasn't an ordinary mountain breeze. It carried a chill that seeped out from the very marrow, along with a sacred pressure that made their scalps tingle.
The Heaven Dou Empire's Titled Douluo was the first to sense something was wrong. He abruptly set down his cup, pushed aside the tent flap, and stepped out.
Then he froze.
Under the moonlight, more than a hundred figures descended from the sky.
They weren't walking down. They were flying.
Every one of them had golden hair and pale skin, with snowy-white wings spread behind them, gleaming with a soft silver light under the moon.
Holy Angels.
Each pair of wings belonged to someone with