Realizing his efforts were futile and he was actually being suppressed, Young Master Mo Jiao had no choice but to resort to his trump cards.
"ROAR!!"
Young Master Mo Jiao's entire body glowed, and his roar seemed to carry a hint of a dragon's True Intent.
The intense sound made countless Water Clan Spirits tremble with fear, their eardrums vibrating as if their heads were about to explode.
Wang Mu frowned slightly. With a flick of his fingertip, his Flying Sword returned to hover before him.
At this point, the Evil Flood Dragon Young Master had barely managed to display the strength of an early-stage Golden Core Realm cultivator.
"Since it's come to this... then I'll still show you some respect..." Wang Mu looked at him.
Divine light seemed to emanate from its mouth as it spoke, and the surrounding water turned as dark as ink—a terrifying pitch-blackness that seemed capable of devouring everything.
It must be using some high-level technique, nothing ordinary.
