The Ghost Gate Pass, like a mountain holding up the heavens, condensed into a chaotic vortex.
The giant warship fleet sailed through the sky in orderly ranks.
The sun-blotting black fleet was like a wild tide sweeping across heaven and earth.
Enormous beasts of gold and iron strode through the domain barriers, their internal pill furnaces roaring and howling, boundless steam thickening the clouds.
Qilin claws waved, banners fluttered.
The Netherworld's army, which had poured out in full force, had finally returned in triumph.
Having been tempered by war and further strengthened alongside the Netherworld, Yu Shen was filled with emotion.
Thinking back, he had loafed around in the Eastern March, wasting his days away. He had not found a worthy lord until he met Wu Rong at the arena and decided to leave the mountains. When they departed Eastern March City, there had been exactly three of them.
Looking back, the massive black-gold warship fleet stretched across the heavens like a river of stars.
"Your arm's reattached?"
The voice pulled Yu Shen's attention back.
He looked closely and saw the black-robed monk, Ru Zang.
Yu Shen stepped forward and said with feeling, "The fourth step truly is different. A drop of blood is enough for rebirth. Damage to the body is no great matter."
As he spoke, he moved his arm. What he had lost in the war was not merely an arm; his Dao body had been reforged many times. He had truly fought his way out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
Yet compared to the frontal battlefield where Ru Zang had fought, although the war between the Netherworld army and the demon army had been no small matter, after Old Heaven sank an entire region of the Demon Abyss, the demon kings of the