A frigid wind hung motionless over the battlefield, and the smoke filling the sky had yet to disperse. Qian Daoliu, who had just been defeated by Lin Ya's clone, was barely breathing, his wings shattered as he crashed heavily to the ground.
Although Spirit Hall's healing-type soul masters rushed over, it would still take him some time to recover, judging by his condition.
On the ground, Bibi Dong's purple-black Rakshasa robes stirred without wind, while frost covered her beautiful yet sinister face.
Watching Qian Daoliu, the Limit Douluo who had once stood above all others and presided over Spirit Hall for countless years, suffer such a crushing defeat, she felt no regret whatsoever. There was only utter contempt and dissatisfaction in her eyes.
"That old bastard is truly useless!"
Her cold rebuke rang across the battlefield, showing no concern at all for the gravely injured Qian Daoliu.
In Bibi Dong's eyes, Qian Daoliu commanded the Worship Hall and possessed Rank 99 Limit Douluo cultivation, yet he could not even stop a single clone of his opponent. It was a disgrace to the title of Limit Douluo and dragged down Spirit Hall's reputation—though she did not particularly care about Spirit Hall's reputation in the first place.
At that moment, Lin Ya's indifferent voice slowly rang out, carrying a trace of teasing amusement and composure.
"From the sound of it, you think you're stronger than him? By the way, the one in the sky... is my clone."
That simple sentence exploded beside Bibi Dong's ears like thunder!
One clone had utterly crushed and severely wounded Qian Daoliu, a Rank 99 Limit Douluo?
Bibi Dong's pupils abruptly contracted, and an unprecedented pressure instantly enveloped her heart.
She stared fixedly at the upright, unruffled young man before her, while monstrous waves rose within her