Huff Huff Huff Huff!

Everyone focused on the 15 black boxes, or rather, coffins.

Streams of black airflow swirled around the coffins, eventually forming 15 pitch-black tornadoes, twisting in the sky like malevolent dragons.

The already dim sky grew even more overcast, giving an apocalyptic feeling.

Gulp!

Whether it was humans or other races.

All Martial Artists swallowed hard, everyone was dumbfounded.

The spectacle before them was simply unbelievable.

Many human Martial Artists gritted their teeth, the bodies in those coffins were human!

Even thinking with their knees, it was clear that Mo Jie had no good intentions.

...

"Mo Jie, using the corpses of Martial Artists to refine gu, aren't you afraid of losing your lifespan?"

In the sky.

Liu Yizhou stared grimly at Mo Jie.

Had this old beast gone mad?

Dark sorcery inevitably requires sacrifice.

And these corpse manipulation techniques generally require a trade of your own lifespan.

This time, Mo Jie was truly playing a dangerous game.

"You're ruthless!"

Su Qingfeng was taken aback.

Using his own lifespan to play dark sorcery, what kind of courage is that?

The point is, saving 31 useless Grandmasters, is it worth it?

Ying Mountain Ridge and the others were equally incredulous.

This Mo Jie guy had secretly cultivated such terrifying dark sorcery.

The key is, he was actually willing to use it.

Indeed, lifespan was being sacrificed.

"Hahaha... hahahaha, hahaha..."

"Liu Yizhou, Yao Chenqing, are you satisfied now?"

"Fei Xiao, Ying Mountain Ridge, Steel Bone, you were aggressive, satisfied now?"

"As long as everyone is satisfied."

"I, Mo Jie, said I would break through the Divine Land's border this time, slay Thunder Sacrifice City, and I will definitely do it."

"Hahaha... do you have any other means, bring them out... Liu Yizhou, don't you enjoy playing?"

"Come, let's play together, risk our lives playing."

"One Grandmaster corpse costs me three years of lifespan, 15 corpses are merely 45 years of lifespan, I, Mo Jie, don't care."

"Liu Yizhou, I dare to play, do you?" Hahaha... coward..."

Mo Jie laughed wildly once more.

This time, he disdainfully scorned everyone hysterically.

This war, he was already destined to win.

This Filthy Tomb Hall technique was a unique secret he discovered in the swamp ruins, an unparalleled technique that no one else could understand.

To regain control of the battle, he could only increase the stakes.

The 15 Sixth-Grade Grandmasters were Mo Jie's final wager.

For this, he didn't hesitate to give up 45 years of lifespan.

Don't be deceived by Mo Jie's rampant laughter on the surface, his heart was bitter.

The arrow was nocked, he was already riding the tiger unable to dismount.

If this war failed, Mao Yao City would never find peace, and he might even be punished by the Peak Race Venerable, the losses at that time would be even more brutal.

Lifespan is precious, but Mo Jie still had one trump card left.

Hong Guo.

As long as he won the war, Hong Guo could help him find the Peak opportunity.

Once achieving the Peak, today's humiliation would be repaid a hundredfold, a thousandfold.

No matter if it's you, Yizhou, or Fei Xiao, or Ying Mountain Ridge.

The humiliation you give me, Mo Jie, today, I'll make you regret for life.

Unfortunately, each time this Filthy Tomb Hall is executed, it must be used with full strength, there's no way to hold back, even 10 corpses would be more than enough, yet Mo Jie's greed over these decades led him to secretly refine 15 corpses, ultimately releasing them all.

Win!

This time, Mao Yao City must win, win decisively, win so Liu Yizhou is completely convinced.

"45 years of lifespan, that's quite a bold move!"

"Mo Jie, although you're Ninth Grade, wasting lifespan like this, even pills can't recuperate it, you are merely Ninth Grade, not an Immortal."

"You are formidable."

Even Liu Yizhou couldn't help but praise Mo Jie.

A truly ruthless person.

45 years of lifespan.

Even though a Ninth-Grade Martial Artist lives longer than regular people, living to around 150 would already be pushing it, that's the natural law.

Both humans and the Eight Swamp Races have similar lifespans.

Perhaps, breaking through to the Peak could offer a chance to extend life.

But the Peak... such a slim chance.

At this point, humans have in fact already won.

Even if Thunder Sacrifice City was truly breached, this round was still profitable.

To consume a Yangxiang Race Ninth Grade's 45 years of lifespan, this was simply a grand victory.

The key here being Mo Jie, known for his infamy and plots, he was a headache for everyone.

Dying a bit earlier would be a blessing to humanity.

"Brother Mo Jie, I, Su Qingfeng, first express my respect."

"I estimated your summoned corpses, though they count as Sixth-Grade puppets, undead and unextinguishable, they would last no more than two hours before vanishing."

"Your original intention, should be to cultivate a puppet army, right? But 15 corpses aren't many."

"Do you have a terminal illness?"

"If you're sick, get treated, don't be so reckless."

Su Qingfeng observed a few moments then noticed the puppet corpses' weaknesses.

He often wandered the swamp before and had seen many similar puppet corpse techniques, the flaws were typically the same.

Undead and unextinguishable, painless and fearless.

These were advantages.

But puppets lacked thought, had limited combat strength, as they couldn't employ strategies without intelligence, they could only rely on raw Qi Blood to blast wildly.

Moreover, such puppets weren't sustainable.

Even if only a head remains, they could crash into you, but once time's up, they'd vanish entirely.

This time estimate was approximately two hours.

Su Qingfeng spoke loudly, so everyone could hear, and everyone was made aware of the puppets' weaknesses.