The Moon Manor ultimately couldn't escape a catastrophe.

The Sword Cultivators fought desperately at the Manor gate, achieving some effect.

However, it wasn't the Sword Cultivators who blocked these Boulevard warriors, but the guards following Demarco Mount.

Both sides were already blood-crazed, fighting each other recklessly.

Over the Moon Manor, it turned into a dazzling battlefield!

Below, ordinary Grandmasters were fighting to the death, drenched in blood!

They couldn't fly through the air, nor could they kill from a distance!

But they had strength!

Unstoppable strength!

A hefty Martial Artist appeared among Demarco Mount's forces, standing two meters tall, wielding a giant machete!

His burly physique revealed his robust muscles unmistakably!

The man was bare-chested, vigorously wielding his longsword!

The massive longsword, over a hundred pounds, swept out horizontally!

Leaving trails of blood mist on the street!

Those Grandmaster Martial Artists were directly smashed to death, without even a chance to scream!

The tense situation below changed with the man's appearance!

"Roar!"

The man roared, the giant sword leaving a deep trench in the street!

In the trench, it was a gruesome scene!

Countless bodies were smashed into it.

The Boulevard warriors wanted to retreat, but people kept surging up from behind!

Pushing them forward!

The ones in the front were ordinary warriors, not part of the Undead Tribe; many of them were coerced by Han Caldwell to join!

The giant sword was like the scythe of death, constantly reaping their lives!

"It's a strength-type Martial Artist, I'll take him out!" A skinny man chuckled, untying a red cloth from his waist and tying it around his head.

Maybe it was superstition, maybe a habit.

Every time he acted, he liked doing this.

An assassin wearing red was not a wise choice.

It would expose oneself.

But Skinny Monkey obviously didn't care!

His eyes were solely on that big guy!

"Skinny Monkey, take him out! Or our people won't get through!"

Someone shouted loudly.

The street was only so wide, no matter how many horses and troops, it could only form a line to move forward and kill!

In the air were Great Grandmasters engaging in battle, truly a single path like Uriah Mount of old!

"Quiet!" Skinny Monkey pulled out a small dagger from his back, a poisoned dagger!

Catching the right moment, calculating the big guy's strike frequency, he leaped!

The dagger gleamed coldly!

With a smug smile on his lips!

In that gap, he would sweep over the big guy's head and viciously plunge the dagger into his crown!

Then, borrowing the force of the person behind the big guy, he rolled back into the Boulevard's ranks!

A qualified assassin would assess the situation as they acted, and return flawlessly.

But the moment he approached the big guy!

A dark shadow appeared instantly!

The shadow was silent, Skinny Monkey hadn't even noticed this person existed!

Skinny Monkey changed his move, needing to eliminate the shadow first!

But he was fast, and the shadow was faster!

In an instant.

A person clad in black appeared!

Or rather, people!

Inside the shadow were three dwarfs less than a meter tall!

They had top-knots and rouge-painted cheeks, each wearing an eerie smile!

Six hands, six knives, thrust straight out!

Swish!

Skinny Monkey's dagger tore the clothes, stabbing empty air.

But he received six solid stabs.

Thud!

The knife-riddled Skinny Monkey fell to the ground, instantly trampled into pulp.

Boom!

The big guy kept mercilessly reaping lives!

Strength-type Martial Artists have congenital advantages; even though the opponents were nimble, the shadow's presence made them dare not approach recklessly!

In just a moment's pause, another five warriors died under the sword.

Fighting head-on, it was like ants shaking a tree!

They couldn't win at all!

"Get out of the way! Useless bunch!"

Larkin Davenport stood at a distance, clearly watching the scene here.

He waved his hand, and the Undead Tribe behind him prepared to advance.

If the big guy continued to rampage like this, they would lose many people!

The crowd immediately moved to both sides!

"Ah!"

A burly man from the Undead Tribe rushed forward, wielding a longsword!

The man's steps were swift and forceful!

He was Larkin Davenport's confidant, an Undead Tribe expert!

He intended to act in the final moments, but the Martial Artists invited by Demarco Mount were too fierce; if he didn't act, morale could suffer!

Larkin received word that the opponents ahead possessed weapons capable of killing the Undead Tribe, so he couldn't be careless.

Being the commander, he maintained such caution.

The Undead Tribe man charged forward, obviously, the stout fellow from Demarco Mount's side noticed too.

An attack and a defense!

The stout fellow tightened his grip on the longsword, and the shadow behind him stirred restlessly.

The Undead Tribe man resembled a hero!

A lifeless warrior!

He moved faster and faster, reaching the big guy in an instant!

The longsword in his hand drew out instantly!

A flash of cold light!

Clang!

The stout fellow struck in mid-air!

The man dodged nimbly, but his left hand was grazed, losing an arm!

The three dwarfs pounced on him!

Knife after knife stabbed out!

They tore the man's body apart in a grisly scene!

Yet.

The hand clutching the sword pierced through the air in a brief moment!

The longsword pierced through the stout fellow's heart!

The hand still held on tight.

Stagger! Stagger! Stagger!

The stout fellow backed up several steps, trembling as he pulled out the sword from his chest!

"Grr..."

An unwilling roar!

But it was meaningless.

Death was destined.

Crash!

The body fell to the ground.

On the ground, the Undead Tribe's body began merging.

"Kill!"

With the big guy no longer paving the way, Boulevard warriors and the Undead Tribe mingled together, rushing forward swiftly!

"Avenge my brother!"

A man burst out from Demarco Mount's ranks, wielding a pitch-black longsword!

Clang!

He savagely thrust the longsword into the yet-to-heal Undead Tribe warrior.

It swiftly withered the flesh and blood.

But his own head was just as quickly sent flying by the person in front!

The street resumed its previous slaughter.

The streets of the Moon Manor resembled a meat grinder!

Even the Undead Tribe were like ordinary people in the face of those weapons, still being killed!

In the sky, the Great Grandmasters dueling continued, with more being slain!

The situation rapidly intensified!

Both sides, blood-thirsty, cared not for life and death, only wishing to drag each other into hell!

The stench of blood and flesh spread continually on the street.

A mere ten meters from the battleground, Julius Reed was drinking wine.

A fine battle for fame and profit!

A grand struggle!

Crack!

A left-guard Martial Artist's sword struck the Undead Tribe's chest.

But strangely, the Undead Tribe did not die.

The metal of the sword was exposed, the black coating worn away.

"Warriors, the weapons of Demarco Mount's scum have failed! Kill!"

A shout rang out!

The Undead Tribe's morale soared, while fear gripped Demarco Mount's men!

"Report! We're being flanked from behind!"

The Guard Commander's ear buzzed with the squad's voice.

"Damn! These animals skimped on the coating for us; after cutting five, the sword's useless!"

Seeing the black-and-white striped coating on the sword, the Guard Commander cursed loudly, bellowing, "Fight back! Break out of Moon Manor!"

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