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However, Emperor Dai Yutian's command to dispatch his own Titled Douluo to intercept the Tianlong Empire's Titled Douluo turned out to be his greatest blunder.
Because the Star Luo Empire's territory was vast, the battle reports from days ago were only just arriving now.
While Dai Yutian waited with burning impatience, a scout—an aerial soul master—staggered into the palace, drenched in blood and utterly bedraggled.
He collapsed to the floor with a thud, his voice trembling.
"Your Majesty! Disaster! The Tianlong Empire has broken through our western defenses and is now but eighty li from the imperial capital! Multiple Titled Douluo generals have fallen—we are routed!"
Dai Yutian reeled, nearly toppling over.
Only Zhu Yali's quick reflexes kept him upright as she stepped forward to steady him.
But even her face had gone ashen at such news.
"Impossible! The western defense line was manned by our elite, with eight Titled Douluo stationed there—how could it crumble so easily?"
Dai Yutian roared, his voice a blend of disbelief and fury.
The scout answered, shaking all over, "Your Majesty, we were deceived by the Tianlong Empire. Their Titled Douluo never split up at all—they've always been moving together.
"What we saw elsewhere—those 'sightings' of Tianlong Titled Douluo—were merely a soul skill cast by one of their number."
Darkness crowded Dai Yutian's vision, and he slumped into the dragon throne.
He had dared order those interceptions because he'd grown confident—too confident—in his own Titled Douluo and in his grasp of Star Luo's strength.
And now he learned the enemy had never split their forces—choosing instead to smash him with a single hammerblow.
With the earlier counteroffensives added in, more than a third of Star Luo's thirty-plus Titled Douluo had already been lost.
Zhu Yali's fine brows knit tight. Anxious, she urged, "Your Majesty, now is no time to mourn losses. They'll be at our gates any moment—recall those generals sent out to intercept at once."
Dai Yutian understood the urgency. Jaw clenched, a cold gleam flashed in his eyes.
"Transmit Our command—recall every unit from around the capital that can be pulled back. Hold the imperial city to the death! Send word to all the generals lying in wait—return to the capital immediately!"
The scout struggled to his feet, took the order, and hurried out.
Dai Yutian turned to Zhu Yali, weary and worried. "Empress… if the Star Luo Empire is destroyed this time, how shall I face the ancestors?"
Zhu Yali gripped his hand tightly, her tone firm.
"Your Majesty, our national strength is unprecedented. These defeats are but the result of being caught unprepared by Tianlong.
"If we meet them head-on, Star Luo will not necessarily lose."
Dai Yutian nodded heavily. Though a third of their Titled Douluo were gone, a dozen or two still remained.
If they turtled up and fought as one, even if Tianlong's whole force came, breaking them would still cost the enemy dearly.
At that moment, sixty li outside the capital, over the vast plains—more than twenty figures stood suspended in the air.
At the head of the formation was a lithe, dark silhouette—Zhu Zhuqing.
The twenty-some figures behind her were the Titled Douluo dispatched by the Tianlong Empire.
Gazing at the familiar land, Zhu Zhuqing said coldly, "Ahead lies the Star Luo imperial city."
For Star Luo, she felt no belonging—only hatred.
The others said nothing; they were assassins, every one of them—powerful assassins.
On the plains before the capital, Star Luo soldiers poured out like a flood, a black mass stretching to the horizon—a million strong.
Despite their numbers, each soldier's eyes bulged, faces pale, throats bobbing as they swallowed.
They were afraid—of course they were. They were ordinary men facing the fearsome reputations and overwhelming might of Titled Douluo.
Yet with several of Star Luo's Titled Douluo looming behind them, none dared flee.
They knew well that desertion meant execution on the spot—and their families would suffer as well.
So they stood, even if their presence meant almost nothing.
Meanwhile, Star Luo's Titled Douluo wore grave expressions.
They knew how badly they had lost, but in their eyes, a firm will to fight still burned.
One of them—a Titled Douluo with tiger eyes and sword-like brows, three old knife scars slashing across his face—stepped forward to speak.
This was Fu Yunshi, one of Star Luo's Titled Douluo.
A rank ninety-three power-attack type Titled Douluo—martial soul: Cloud Lion.
"Soldiers! Today, what we guard is not only the imperial city—but the honor and dignity of the entire Star Luo Empire! For our homeland, for our loved ones—battle!"
Fu Yunshi raised his arm high; his voice boomed, shaking the skies.
"Battle! Battle! Battle!"
The Star Luo soldiers roared in unison; the sound surged like a tidal wave straight into the clouds.
A cold light flickered in Fu Yunshi's eyes. Just now, he had quietly circulated his soul power to erase the fear in those mortals' hearts.
Yes—just like that. Your task is to die—to use fearless sacrifice to slow the advance of the Tianlong Titled Douluo!
The Star Luo soldiers, still riding their induced fervor, did not know they had already been cast as expendable pawns.
From the Tianlong side, a few Titled Douluo snorted, contempt plain. "Cornered beasts baring fangs—laughable."
Before the words had fully faded, several figures flashed forth like black lightning, appearing above the Star Luo army in the blink of an eye.
Some bore curved sabers, others daggers—strange, sinister weapons of every sort.
They hadn't struck before—but once they did, it was devastating.
Shoo, shoo, shoo!
Multicolored arcs of cutting light screamed down, painting the sky in garish hues.
Explosions boomed in rapid succession among the Star Luo ranks.
Neat formations ripped open with gaping wounds; many soldiers were blasted into mangled flesh and blood on the spot.
Star Luo's soldiers did not retreat. They moved quickly, patching holes in the line.
Yet as these mortals refused to break, Star Luo's Titled Douluo instead folded their arms and watched.
Especially Fu Yunshi—he looked upon the dying mortals as if he saw nothing at all.
He even withdrew behind the massed army to observe in silence.
Such behavior did not escape the Tianlong assassins. They traded curt whispers:
"These Star Luo scum are certainly decisive—throwing a million mortals to die just to stall us."
"Hmph. And what of it? A mere million—killing them is no harder than slaughtering chickens."
"Exactly. Since they're so eager to die, we assassins won't be merciful."
With that, the Tianlong Titled Douluo redoubled their assault. In an instant, hundreds—thousands—of mortals fell.
Watching the rate of deaths, Fu Yunshi cursed under his breath. "Useless trash!"
"Bwoooom—!"
Just as he struggled with what to do next, a bright clarion blast rolled from the distance, drawing every gaze.
On the horizon, figures surged into view—each one radiating terrifying pressure—as they hurled themselves toward the Tianlong Titled Douluo.
It was the joint forces of Sea God Island and Spirit Hall—arrived at last.
Or rather—finally willing to show themselves.
They had hoped to let Star Luo and Tianlong maul each other, then reap the fisherman's profit.
But Star Luo's cold indifference had upset their plan.
Weighing profit and loss, they chose to reveal themselves now—while Star Luo still had enough strength to be worth an alliance.
"Brothers of Star Luo, fear not—Sea God Island comes to your aid!"
"Spirit Hall as well!"
They hadn't finished speaking before their Titled Douluo struck at the Tianlong Titled Douluo.
Their target was crystal clear—the weakest presence in the sky: Zhu Zhuqing.
In a heartbeat, the few Titled Douluo remaining at Zhu Zhuqing's side were pinned down.
And because of that opening, Dai Mubai found his chance and lunged at Zhu Zhuqing.
Madness and exhilaration flashed in his eyes as he roared, "Slut, die! Today is your death day!"
(End of Chapter)