Wei Dan nodded and said softly, "I am merely offering a well-intentioned reminder. Once the Witch God breaks the seal, withdraw swiftly back to Yue Province."
All three faces froze for an instant. Then Pu Yangying said in an unfriendly tone, "What, now that Great Qian is about to take Jing Province, you want to draw a clear line between yourselves and our barbarian race?
Killing the donkey after it has ground the grain truly is the habitual style of you Central Plains people!"
Wei Dan gave a cold laugh, his decayed body turning away. His indifferent voice slowly echoed through the mountain forest.
"The Great Qian army will withdraw from Jing Province in three days. Three days from now, Jing Province will bear the surname Fang completely.
As for you, I do not believe you have the ability to contend against Fang Xuan, who has received the Confucian Saint's blessing.
Not even the Witch God... can!"
The war at Mouth Deer City continued.
This great battle, watched by every major force across the Nine Provinces, had strangely seen no powerful martial artists take part.
Outside those enormous city walls, people died every day.
The Corpse Mountain piled across the vast plain had already begun to give off a dense stench.
That morning, Ma Lao San, one of Mouth Deer City's defending soldiers, came to change shifts as usual. Having held his urine in all night, he now let it pour beyond the city wall in a thousand-mile torrent.
Once he was done, he shivered comfortably, then raised his eyes into the distance—only to see the black mass of the Great Qian army emerge from the far-off forests.
"Ah, this Great Qian army is strange indeed. They've been losing battles every day lately. Who knows what they're even plotting?"
Suddenly,