Southern Legion defensive zone, central command tent.
Yue Zhengen wore the uniform of a three-star general. His beard and hair were completely white, yet his back remained ramrod straight. The instant he rushed out of the command tent, he saw the situation clearly.
Black mist filled the air, and sinister energy shot into the sky.
Cries of agony rang throughout the military camp, one after another, heart-wrenching and shrill.
The Sun-Moon Federation had promoted free martial soul awakenings for many years, but those who could truly become Soul Masters remained few and far between.
Within the Southern Legion, fully Soul Master units made up only a tiny fraction. More than ninety percent were ordinary soldiers who relied on Soul Tools in battle.
Under normal circumstances, their sophisticated Soul Tool equipment was more than enough to suppress local unrest and purge Evil Soul Masters. But against the Black Hand Clan, whose movements were unpredictable and about whom they had no intelligence, they instantly became lambs awaiting slaughter.
The heavily armored infantry in the front had barely raised their alloy shields when pitch-black shadow hands emerged from the shadows beneath their feet, seized their ankles, and yanked them downward. Their screams were cut off halfway through as they were dragged directly into the black mist, leaving not even a corpse behind.
The Soul Tool artillerymen operated their beam cannons, sweeping pillars of light into the black mist, but they could only disperse its outer layer. In the next instant, black shadows pounced through gaps at their sides. Shadow spikes pierced their goggles, blood splattered across the cannon barrels, and the soldiers convulsed before collapsing.
More black mist slipped through the gaps in the tents. Newly enlisted soldiers had only just opened their eyes when shadow hands covered their mouths and noses. Dark