On the Douluo Continent, a remote town lay shrouded in deathly silence and bloodshed.
The last light of the setting sun spilled through the ruined eaves, staining the shattered walls crimson. The air reeked of blood so strongly it turned the stomach. Hundreds of shriveled corpses lay strewn across the once-bustling streets, like dead wood drained of every drop of moisture.
In the middle of the street, a man in a dark red robe leaned languidly against a broken stone monument. His slender fingers gently wiped a lingering smear of crimson from the corner of his mouth, his eyes filled with cold disdain and unsatisfied appetite. "The heart's blood of these ants is nothing special. Too many impurities, too little power." The man frowned slightly and grumbled under his breath, "What a shame. If I could absorb stronger Soul Power, perhaps I could use it to break through my bottleneck and reach the next level."
Just then, two dark figures appeared soundlessly at the end of the street.
The man in front was burly and rugged-faced, radiating the savage ferocity of a wild beast. Looking at the carnage strewn across the ground, he frowned slightly and said in a low voice, "That's enough, Blood Emperor. We all know you're impatient and hungry for power. But our goal has always been to hold the entire continent in our hands, not waste time here over these paltry scraps. Killing these ordinary people won't change the bigger picture. If we're going to lose, we'll still lose; if we're going to win, we'll still win. Better to wait until we've won, when everyone on the continent will be yours to choose from. Then you can drain them however you please. Why be in such a hurry?"
The man called the Blood Emperor chuckled at