Immortal Gods-Level Grand Battle!

"How many more days do we have to endure this standoff? The lads under my command are about to squeeze sparks out of their spears!"

Wang Jian lounged sideways in a tiger-hide armchair, the corners of his lips slightly raised, though his tone carried a restless agitation he could scarcely contain.

"Exactly!" Meng Tian slapped a palm onto the table. "The Heavenly Court has laid more than a dozen layers of Heaven-Locking Astral Nets around Shouyang Mountain. Do they really mean to trap us here like turtles in a jar, until we're gnawing on tree bark from hunger?"

Before he had even finished speaking, he burst out laughing himself—the notion was simply too absurd.

This was no mortal battlefield.

Shouyang Mountain was the ancestral court of the Human Race. Every year after the autumn harvest, it stockpiled ten thousand shi of millet, a thousand cartloads of dried meat, and a hundred cellars of strong wine. This was a rule etched into their bloodline, a preparedness carved into the very seams of their bones.

It was no exaggeration to say that even if the Heavenly Court besieged the mountain for ten years, the grains in the granaries would still gleam with the sheen of a fresh harvest!

Not to mention—the Human Race had long since cast off its shackles. They were merely waiting for the sound of a horn to pierce the clouds before marching forth!

"I understand what everyone is thinking." Bai Qi swept his gaze over them, his voice not loud, yet as sharp as a bronze sword leaving its sheath. "But everyone sitting here is a pillar of Qin, the backbone of the Human Race. His Majesty has not been eager to reveal our hand because this battle is not meant for the Heavenly Court to see—it is