The allied forces of Heaven Dou and the Star Luo Empire had expected to encounter desperate resistance from Spirit Hall's regional branches. Instead, when their army swept in, they found only one emptied hall after another.
Forget confidential documents—even the last crate of Soul Tools from the storerooms had not been left behind.
The same was true on Star Luo's side. Several vanguard forces captured city after city, yet every one of them came up empty. Spirit Hall's forces had withdrawn like the tide, in perfect order, without even mounting a proper interception.
When the news reached the allied camp, the leaders of the various factions became even more uneasy.
"They're not fighting us," an elder from an old-established sect said quietly. "This isn't flight. They're consolidating."
"They've drawn all their strength back to Spirit City because they want one final battle with us." Another hawkish leader sneered. "I'd like to see how long one Spirit City can hold out."
Even so, everyone knew that Spirit Hall's most terrifying asset had never been those scattered branches throughout the land, but Spirit City itself, standing at the center of the continent.
There were several Titled Douluo from Elder Hall there, Pope Bibi Dong, and the Saint Son who was currently attempting to reach God Level.
"We have no way back now." The Star Luo marshal stood in the center of the main tent, one hand pressed against a massive map, his tone grim. "Either Spirit Hall falls, or we are wiped out. This battle can only be won."
The allied army continued its advance, and small and medium-sized factions continuously came to pledge allegiance along the way.
Some did so to protect themselves. Some wanted a share of the spoils after the war. Others truly feared that Spirit Hall might produce