This time, he was utterly defeated, powerless against fate.
Lost his family fortune.
Lost his territories.
Lost his city.
Even worse, he lost his reputation.
From now on, the Yangxiang Race's Mo Armor would become a gigantic joke; he didn't even know how to face the pinnacle of the Eight Races Sacred Land.
Yan Chenyun and the others gazed at the grand and imposing Mao Yao City, with mixed emotions in their hearts.
If not for the complete destruction of the alliance's confidence, attacking a city of this caliber would be incredibly difficult for the human race.
If it weren't for alienating that fool Fei Xiao, certainly those Ninth Grade ones from Ying Mountain Ridge would still be aiding Mo Armor, after all, when the lips are gone, the teeth are cold.
But now, Mo Armor's prestige is completely lost.
The Yangxiang Race has reached the end of the road.
"Brother Qingfeng, you have the demon blade, you're responsible for breaking open the city gate."
