Chu Mo made his way unhurriedly to the skies above Bai Ju's area.
Below him, the scene was quite spectacular.
The crowd formed a brightly colored tide, surging toward Yuanyang City along the light bridge extending from the floating island's edge. The paper army followed behind, driving the migrating throng like a flock of sheep.
Bai Ju hovered in midair, his paper parasol turning gently in his hand. Gusts of sinister wind and killing intent swept out, routing the Origin Race experts who tried to organize resistance one after another.
Countless paper figures plunged into the crowd, reaping Origin Race lives like mowing grass. Streams of colored Qi spilled out, only to be deftly collected by the paper figures following behind.
Resistance was sporadic. Cries for help were often swallowed by a sea of pallor before they had even fully left their speakers' mouths.
Only near the light bridge leading to Yuanyang City did a semblance of order remain. A handful of second-tier Origin Race members desperately held the defensive line there, buying their kin time to board the bridge and evacuate.
Chu Mo swept his gaze over the battlefield. He was just about to send Bai Ju a voice transmission telling him to speed up the cleanup when his gaze abruptly sharpened, settling on the floating landmass's southeastern corner.
The fighting there was particularly fierce.
A pure-white figure was weaving through the paper army at astonishing speed. An invisible spear had condensed in his hand, and every sweep cleared a vast swath around him.
The instant the spear grazed the surrounding paper figures, their bodies turned to ash, annihilating the Banner Spirits within them as well.
[Level 11 · White Race Yuan Xu]
"Oh?"
A flicker of surprise crossed Chu Mo's eyes. Members of the White Race