Lin Mo took a calm step forward, walking straight off the marble balustrade into empty air.
He did not plummet. Beneath the polished soles of his black leather shoes, a brilliant golden lotus bloomed out of thin air.
Step. Step. Step.
Each stride across the sky produced another golden lotus, radiating ripples of warm, celestial merit.
Lin Mo ascended casually, hands tucked comfortably into his dark coat pockets. He looked less like a martial master entering an apocalyptic battle and more like a company director taking an evening stroll through a municipal park.
Yet with every step he took, the suffocating corpse-pressure blanketing the twenty-mile battlefield began to fracture and dissolve.
Up in the churning clouds, the three-thousand-foot Nascent-Soul phantom roared with primal, demonic fury.
Its colossal bone-scythe, dripping with the sacrificed heart-blood of five ancient monsters, cleaved downward toward the city ramparts. The blood-scythe moved so fast that the surrounding air ignited into black demonic flames. The heat threatened to incinerate Grandma Chen’s cauldrons, the wall towers, and every defender standing on the battlements.
