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However, Old Aryang’s strength was in strategy and not Martial Dao. Although his strength increased after he joined Chambord, he was only a Nine-Star Warrior. In front of Moon-Class Elites, his strength was too weak. Under the suppression of this opponent, he had a hard time waving his saber, and blood flowed down his lips.

Noticing this, Dominguez roared and pushed Old Aryang aside, and he walked up to stand in the very front. He knew that he couldn’t let anything happen to Old Aryang.

Old Aryang wasn’t only one of the most important subordinates of the King of Chambord; this old man’s military talent wasn’t inferior to his older brother who was known as Zenit’s God of War. If Old Aryang was greatly injured or killed, Dominguez couldn’t explain this to the King of Chambord, and the empire might lose future wars.

Dominguez grasped forward with his right hand, and the sword of one of his dead guards flew into his hand.

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! Dozens of metal-elemental sword energies flew out and attacked the peak Full Moon Elite of Barcelona who was closest to him.

What a man! Dominguez was the Second Prince of Zenit, yet he never revealed his true strength. At this moment, he showed a glimpse of his power, and he was at low-tier Full Moon Realm, far stronger than the realm that he showed in public. He had been hiding his strength all along!

Unfortunately, his hidden strength seemed useless at this moment. After all, he was facing five Full Moon Elites of Barcelona.

He might still have a chance if he was fighting one peak Full Moon Elite. However, he had no chance of winning when fighting with five.

“Jeffrén! Let’s attack together! We can capture the head of these Zenitian soldiers and use this to disrupt their formations! Mr. Pedro ordered that we must wipe out these two battle legions of Zenit this time! We can’t waste any more time!”

The master who was battling Dominguez called out to his peers.

The other four masters of Barcelona unleashed their powerful energies and attacked together. Streaks of warrior energy flames lit up the dark sky at night, and the ocean-like pressure swarmed up like a truck. Dominguez who had been struggling to fight back was crushed.

“Why aren’t you surrendering?” The master of Barcelona named Jeffrén transformed his warrior energy into a hand before grasping toward the ground.

Dominguez roared, but he was tightly locked; he couldn’t even wave his sword.

At this moment, a streak of lightning suddenly blinked high-up in the gloomy sky.

This lightning bolt was as bright as the first streak of sunlight.

In the next moment, a series of soul-shaking sharp howls sounded in the area, even slightly overpowering the noises made by Hazel Bank and Pedro’s battle.

Before Jeffrén could react, his vision blurred, and someone suddenly appeared before him.

“F*ck off!” This man shouted and lightly punched out.

Jeffrén only felt a vast amount of force crushing toward him; this level of power could move mountains and drain seas. It wasn’t something that he could fight against. He tasted the sweetness of blood in his throat, and he puked out a blood arrow. Then, a series of cracking noises sounded from his body, and he flew backward.

“This... who is he? How come he is so powerful?”

This was the only thought in Jeffrén’s mind before he lost consciousness.