Mo Qianye vs. Mighty Lion Douluo

The battlefield was cleared.

The seven hundred thousand allied troops faced off against Spirit City's defenders from three hundred paces away.

The circular scorched earth in between, flattened by divine power, was the Life-and-Death Platform.

Mighty Lion Douluo stepped onto it first.

With every step he took, a cluster of crimson flames surged beneath his feet.

The Soul Power of a level ninety-seven attack-type Titled Douluo erupted in full. Heat waves spread out from him, snapping the allied army's front-line banners taut as several warhorses pawed the ground restlessly.

Mighty Lion Douluo stopped and rolled his neck, his joints cracking in rapid succession.

His gaze landed on the allied army's platform, his voice numbing everyone's eardrums. "Su Chen! Who are you sending to die?"

No one answered.

But Mighty Lion Douluo's shadow moved.

The shadow seemed to tear open, and a pale hand stretched out from within, its five fingers pressing against the ground.

A figure silently rose from the darkness.

Mo Qianye.

He was now standing within thirty feet of Mighty Lion Douluo.

A wave of suppressed gasps swept through the allied ranks. No one had seen how he got there.

Mighty Lion Douluo's pupils contracted, and he actually took half a step back on instinct.

He had killed countless people, yet this bizarre entrance still sent a chill through him.

"Kid, a soul skill from your left leg bone." Mighty Lion Douluo quickly steadied himself and sneered. "You've got quite a few tricks."

Mo Qianye ignored him and merely turned to glance at Spirit City's walls.

Spirit Hall's banners flew there.

Black banners embroidered with golden patterns.

Twelve years ago, those same banners had flown over Nether Phoenix Valley.

"Make your move." Mo Qianye withdrew his gaze, his tone calm.

Mighty Lion Douluo said no more. Nine Spirit