Finally, they reached the gates of the fortress. As they pushed forward, a deep, booming laughter echoed from within, chilling them to their cores. Mo Tian appeared, his dark robe billowing around him like a storm cloud, his eyes burning with malevolent power.
"So, the weakling clans have come to stop me?" he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Fools. You do not understand the power you challenge."
Shenlong stepped forward, meeting Mo Tian's gaze without a hint of fear. "We know exactly what we challenge. Your path of darkness ends here."
Mo Tian smirked, his face twisting with hatred. "You may have gathered allies, boy, but it is useless. The Crimson Altar has already begun its awakening, and soon I will command power that none of you can fathom."
With a wave of his hand, Mo Tian summoned his elite guard—cultivators who had sacrificed their humanity, twisted beings who wielded dark arts with deadly efficiency. These warriors were ruthless, their faces devoid of emotion, as if they had given their very souls to the sect's sinister cause.
Without hesitation, Shenlong's allies surged forward to meet the enemy, clashing in a deadly battle of light against dark. Yan Mei danced through the ranks of the dark cultivators, her swift movements a blur as she struck with lethal precision. Lin Xiu unleashed torrents of energy that disrupted the dark spells, his power amplifying the strength of those fighting by his side.
But the battle was fierce, and Mo Tian's forces were relentless. Shenlong himself was locked in a deadly exchange with a towering warrior wielding dark, crackling energy. Every blow sent shockwaves through the air, the sheer force shaking the ground beneath them. But Shenlong, channeling the ancient energy within his pendant, fought back with a power that seemed to rival even the darkest of Mo Tian's creations.