Douluo Dragon King: Here we come! Golden Dragon King!

Ye Mo, gripping Tang Wulin's neck, yelled at Wu Changkong, "Don't move! Take another step forward and I'll crush his throat!"

Tang Wulin felt as if his trachea was being tightly gripped by that iron-like hand, preventing air from entering or leaving.

His face turned bright red, his legs kicked weakly in the air, and he desperately tried to grab Ye Mo's fingers with both hands, but Ye Mo's hand did not budge.

Wu Changkong stopped, the tip of his sword still pointing at Ye Mo, but his feet were rooted to the spot.

His gaze passed over the sword's edge and landed on Tang Wulin's face, which was turning purple from holding his breath. He gripped the sword even tighter.

Ye Mo smiled when he saw him stop, and quickly reached into his robes with his left hand to touch the brocade box.

As long as he takes the ancient Ganoderma lucidum, his chronic illness will be cured, and the battle situation will be reversed instantly.

Wu Changkong saw Ye Mo's movements, but he couldn't move.

If he takes one more step forward, Tang Wulin's neck will be crushed.

Tang Wulin also saw it. His vision was already blurring due to lack of oxygen, but he still saw Ye Mo's hand reaching into his arms.

In that instant, only one thought crossed his mind: he couldn't let this guy take the medicine.

He didn't know where the strength came from, but with the last bit of his consciousness left, he kicked Ye Mo's hand hard at the storage ring.

A kick landed.

Ye Mo's fingers had just touched the edge of the brocade box when he was kicked off course, and the entire storage ring slipped off his finger, fell to the ground with a clatter, and rolled a long way away.

Ye Mo was taken aback at first, looking down at his bare fingers, and then his expression changed from astonishment to rage.

"You little bastard!"

He gripped Tang Wulin's neck tightly with both hands, completely forgetting about hostages and threats, wanting only to strangle this brat who ruined his plans to death.

He forgot to dance in the sky.

The cold light of the Frost Sword flashed again in the night.

Ye Mo didn't even have time to turn his head before he felt a chill on his right arm, and then his right hand flew out from below the elbow.

The sword light was so fast that the blood at the cut was delayed by half a second before gushing out.

Ye Mo let out a heart-wrenching scream, staggering backward while clutching his severed arm with his left hand.

Tang Wulin fell from his loosened grip, landing on the ground coughing violently. His throat burned with pain, but he didn't care. He scrambled back several steps.

Wu Changkong pulled Tang Wulin into his arms and placed him safely beside the ruins behind him, then turned around to face Ye Mo again.

He held the Heavenly Frost Sword level, its tip aimed at the evil spirit master who had lost an arm.

Ye Mo clutched his severed arm, blood gushing from between his fingers and dripping onto the gravel at his feet.

He looked at his severed right arm on the ground, and at the black scythe still twitching slightly between the fingers of his broken hand, and laughed maniacally.

"Good...very good..."

Ye Mo's voice was hoarse and trembling, whether from pain or excitement, it was hard to tell.

"Since we're all going to die anyway, let's die together! Everyone, take me with you!"

At this moment, all the soul power in his body erupted without regard for the cost, and his remaining left hand formed a strange hand seal in front of him.

Black, malevolent energy surged from his body, as if someone had opened a valve to hell within him.

"Domain - Expand!"

"To the deceased!"

In an instant, the world before everyone's eyes changed.

Centered on Ye Mo, a huge dark green barrier suddenly unfolded, enveloping the space within dozens of meters around him.

The ground became soft and muddy, like stepping on rotting flesh.

The air was thick with a pungent, putrid stench, and countless distorted faces, appearing and disappearing in the shadows, floated and drifted within the barrier, emitting silent shrieks.

All the elements in this space are being transformed madly.

The thin moisture in the air turned into a green poisonous fog the moment it came into contact with the evil energy. The grass and trees on the ground withered and turned black rapidly, and even the moonlight shining into this area became dim and viscous.

At Ye Mo's severed arm, the blood that was still gushing out stopped under the amplification of the domain, and even began to slowly regrow flesh.

Wu Changkong's expression changed drastically. He felt the cold aura on the Heavenly Frost Sword being frantically suppressed and eroded by this space. The originally sharp, icy blue sword light became dim and weak, and the ice crystals condensed on the sword were melting at a speed visible to the naked eye.

However, Ye Mo's aura was rapidly increasing!

With the support of his domain, his aura began to surge toward the level of a Title Douluo. The sheer oppressive aura of his pure evil even faintly touched the threshold of a Super Douluo.

Tang Wulin's eyes widened. He had never seen a domain before, and he had never imagined that a domain could be so terrifying.

The entire space was distorted, making it difficult for him to breathe. Goosebumps began to appear on his skin, and even the flow of his soul power within his body became sluggish.

Is this the true trump card of a Soul Saint-level expert?

"Little brat."

The voice of the Golden Dragon King suddenly rang in his consciousness.

"Look carefully."

"What?"

"That consumptive devil is burning his own life force to expand this domain."

Look at his hair.

Tang Wulin looked closely and saw that Ye Mo's originally jet-black hair was turning white from the ends at a visible speed, fading in patches.

His already pale face became even more bloodless, his lips turned blue, and his eyes were sunken.

But what is most obvious is his vitality.

Even from this distance, Tang Wulin could feel Ye Mo's energy rapidly dissipating.

"In this level of situation, given his current condition, he can only last a minute at most."

The Golden Dragon King said, "In one minute, without you having to lift a finger, he will be drained dry on his own."

Tang Wulin's heart skipped a beat, and he shouted at Wu Changkong, "Teacher! His domain is built with his life! It can only last for a minute at most!"

Wu Changkong did not respond, but his sword stance changed.

The Heavenly Frost Sword ceased its offensive stance, its blade held horizontally in front of the body, the tip slightly lowered, and the person entered a purely defensive posture.

He didn't engage Ye Mo in a direct confrontation; he simply focused on defense.

Faced with Ye Mo's wildly escalating offensive under the enhancement of his domain, he did not retaliate once. Instead, he continuously blocked, dodged, and deflected the force, shrinking his sword circle to an extremely small size, defending without attacking, like a tortoise shell.

Ye Mo's scythe created dozens of afterimages within the domain, slashing at Wu Changkong simultaneously from various angles.

Wu Changkong blocked most of them, but a few still managed to break through his sword net.

One cut his left forearm open, another slashed his thigh, and yet another cleaved his left shoulder blade.

Fresh blood gushed from the wound, appearing particularly glaring in the aura of the domain.

Wu Changkong gritted his teeth and didn't take a single step back. He had to hold this line, because Tang Wulin was right behind him!

Ten seconds, twenty seconds.

Ye Mo's attacks grew more and more intense, but Wu Changkong keenly sensed that the gaps between each attack were widening.

The opponent's scythe was still fast, but the speed was tinged with impatience; the force was still heavy, but the heavy force was loose.

He also noticed that Ye Mo's hair was almost completely white from the ends to the roots, and his once handsome face was covered with dense wrinkles.

Half a minute passed, and Ye Mo still hadn't managed to take it down.

His mind began to crumble.

How is this possible?!

The power he gained by burning his life, his domain, his trump card—he couldn't even defeat a kid who had just broken through to the seventh ring?

Is that guy in the white shirt made of iron?

Why didn't he fall down when so many knives were slashing him?

Why doesn't he back down?

Why wasn't he afraid?

"You fucking die!"

Ye Mo completely lost his composure, pouring all his soul power, all his life force, and everything else into this attack.

The black flames on the sickle surged three zhang (approximately 10 meters) and the man transformed into a dark green meteor, crashing fiercely towards Wu Changkong.

This attack was almost unstoppable by anyone below the Title Douluo level.

Wu Changkong did not dodge. He stood still and watched the dark green meteor hurtling towards him, his eyes showing no fear.

He even slightly raised his chin, revealing a confident air of certainty.

When Ye Mo's scythe was only three feet away from his chest, he spoke:

"You're not calm enough."

The Heavenly Frost Sword pierced out so fast that the blade was invisible; only a thin line could be seen passing through the gap in Ye Mo's scythe, precisely piercing the center of his chest and exiting through his back.

Ye Mo's body froze, the scythe stopped in front of Wu Changkong's chest, unable to advance any further.

He looked down at the Frost Sword embedded in his chest, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out.

The domain has vanished.

The barrier peeled away like shards of glass, revealing the real night sky outside.

Those floating, distorted faces vanished into nothingness, the decaying, muddy ground returned to its original state as gravel beside the railway tracks, and the suppressed ice elements became active again.

Ye Mo lay on his back on the ground, his eyes wide open, but he was lifeless.

The all-black seven-ring Soul Saint, Dark Phoenix Protector, and Leng Yulai's capable henchman, died by the railway tracks in the wilderness.

Wu Changkong drew his Heavenly Frost Sword, panting heavily.

His body was covered with wounds of all sizes, his white clothes were almost stained red, and the deepest cut on his left arm was still oozing blood.

But he did not fall.

Tang Wulin rushed to Wu Changkong, a bellyful of words stuck in his throat, unsure where to begin. In the end, he could only manage to stammer, "Teacher, are you alright?"

Wu Changkong glanced at him and nodded slightly.

Tang Wulin breathed a sigh of relief and was about to continue speaking when the sound of high heels stepping on gravel came from afar, unhurried and deliberate.

The two of them turned to look at the same time.

A woman in red emerged from the darkness.

She walked to Ye Mo's body, looked down at it, and then her gaze fell on Wu Changkong and Tang Wulin.

"Well done."