The Four Emperors descend, heaven and earth tremble, Lord of Storm's expression suddenly changes. Lost Monarch casually shoots out a jet-black line, shattering space-time, annihilating all things.
"Retreat!"
An oval giant shield interwoven with hurricane and lightning forms before Lord of Storm; as the black line collides with the giant shield, cracks explode outwards, sending shockwaves sweeping across hundreds of thousands of miles.
Lord of Storm demanded:
"Lost Monarch? Weren't you fighting in the Shadow Battlefield?"
Hearing this, Lost Monarch's eyelids twitched.
Truly, you just have to touch on sore spots.
Too lazy to explain, it replied coldly:
"Get lost. Today I can't be bothered to fight you. Your astral world is now like a clay idol crossing a river—barely able to fend for itself. Do not insist on meddling in the affairs of Nora.
Excessive greed leads only to death."
