Sensing that familiar yet powerful aura, Mo Na Ye felt a surge of joy first, followed quickly by shock.
The joy came from the fact that Yang Kai had finally shown himself. He had been hiding in the shadows this entire time, accomplishing nothing overt yet imposing immense pressure on the Ink Race all the same. Now that he had actually appeared and engaged, the Ink Race could finally respond accordingly. So when Mo Na Ye sensed Yang Kai's aura emerge, the heart he had been holding in suspense finally settled.
What shocked him was that Yang Kai's target this time was none other than Mo Yu, a veteran Lord!
Over the course of so many great battles, Yang Kai had struck numerous times, yet each time his targets had been Pseudo Lord-Rank powerhouses. With his phantom-like methods and that bizarre River of the Great Dao, Pseudo Lord-Ranks he set his sights on rarely escaped—unless Diaro's rescue arrived in time.
It could be said that nearly half of the Pseudo Lord-Ranks who had fallen on the battlefield over the years had some direct or indirect connection to him! He had single-handedly slaughtered his way through the Ink Race's Pseudo Lord-Rank echelon to the point where they could barely hold their heads up.
He had never once targeted a Lord—especially not Mo Yu, the most senior among the Ink Race's Lords.
Mo Na Ye's eyelids began to twitch uncontrollably. He thought Yang Kai had to be insane to make such a crazed move, and immediately bellowed: "Diaro!"
There was no verbal reply, but the instant Yang Kai appeared, Diaro had already led over a dozen Pseudo Lord-Ranks charging toward Yang Kai's position at breakneck speed.
Rushing to the rescue was something Diaro had long since mastered. Every great battle, he was the one who led a dozen or more Pseudo Lord-Ranks to contain Yang Kai's movements. So at this moment, he needed no instructions from Mo Na Ye to mount the correct response.
On the other side, caught off guard by the ambush, Mo Yu was visibly startled. Just before this, he had been locked in single combat with Luo Tinghe—his third human Ninth-Order opponent since the decade-long war began.
Unlike Xiang Shan's overwhelming forcefulness or Wei Junyang's bold ferocity, Luo Tinghe, hailing from Yin Yang Heaven, pressed with a more intricate and unrelenting assault. Exquisite secret techniques flowed one after another like a gentle spring rain, tormenting Mo Yu endlessly. Even though his foundation was somewhat deeper than Luo Tinghe's, he could barely gain any advantage. Up to this point, they had been fairly evenly matched.
A Lord's perception was extraordinarily keen. Even with Yang Kai relying on the innate divine ability of Thunder Shadow, he could not completely conceal his movements. The Pseudo Lord-Ranks might be vulnerable to his ambushes, but Mo Yu could sense something amiss.
In truth, before Yang Kai even launched his ambush, Mo Yu had already had a faint premonition.
So the moment he saw Yang Kai appear, he was shocked for only an instant before mounting the correct response. The surging Power of Ink abruptly retracted, forming a barrier around his body. Luo Tinghe's attacks landed, hammering his frame violently, but they could hardly inflict any meaningful wound.
Yang Kai's River of Time and Space swept in at just the right moment, crashing down over Mo Yu and pulling him into its currents.
Mo Yu showed no intention of resisting at all, merely gazing coldly at Yang Kai. True to the Ink Race's strategy these years, he had pushed his defensive capabilities to the absolute limit.
The surging waves crashed against Mo Yu's physical form, the power of the Great Dao reverberating ceaselessly. Luo Tinghe struck simultaneously, and with the combined force of two Ninth-Order cultivators, Mo Yu was quickly driven deeper into the River of Time and Space.
Within the great river, violent undercurrents immediately surged and roared—Mo Yu was channeling his own power to stir tempests inside the river, bombarding Yang Kai's Three Thousand Daos.
The most correct response at this point would naturally be for Yang Kai to dive into the River of Time and Space himself, leveraging the terrain's advantage to fight Mo Yu head-on. With his current strength, slaying the trapped Mo Yu would not be difficult.
But he did not do so.
If he had wanted to kill an Ink Race Lord, he could have done so ten years ago. But killing only a single Lord would not contribute much to the overall strategy.
The Ink Race's most crucial fighting force right now remained those Pseudo Lord-Ranks!
"They're here!" Yang Kai murmured softly, utterly indifferent to the trembling of his own Great Dao.
"Leave them to me!" Luo Tinghe responded. Her slender finger tapped lightly toward a patch of empty space, and the power of the Dao of Yin and Yang erupted outward, coalescing into an enormous Yin-Yang fish diagram in the void—enveloping Diaro and the dozen-plus Pseudo Lord-Ranks who had rushed to Mo Yu's aid.
The Yin-Yang fish rotated slowly, as though it possessed a life of its own, and from that vast expanse of void came an inexplicable pulling force that left the group of Ink Race powerhouses struggling to keep their footing.
Numerous secret techniques blossomed as the Ink Race cultivators, led by Diaro, attempted to break free of the restraint in unison—but Yang Kai had already charged in savagely. No one saw how he moved. When he suddenly appeared behind one of the Pseudo Lord-Ranks with the Azure Dragon Spear in hand, the Pseudo Lord-Rank didn't even notice.
Yang Kai gripped the spear in one hand while the other formed into a palm, sweeping down fiercely in the direction of this Pseudo Lord-Rank. As an inexplicable force undulated outward, it seemed as though something had been severed.
The Pseudo Lord-Rank's expression changed in alarm. In the instant Yang Kai's palm descended, the tightly linked aura connecting him to two other Pseudo Lord-Ranks had suddenly snapped.
With the spiritual links severed, the Triad Formation collapsed on its own.
"Watch out!" Diaro roared at him—but by then the Pseudo Lord-Rank had already realized that catastrophe was upon him. He spun around in haste and threw a punch, yet what filled his vision was the ever-expanding tip of a spear.
As a Pseudo Lord-Rank powerhouse after all, even facing such a crisis he did not lose his composure. He shifted from a punch to an open palm, slapping toward the shaft of the Azure Dragon Spear while tilting his head aside to dodge the lethal thrust.
However… that was as far as he got.