Sunset.
The edge of the thick smoke was dyed fiery red by the evening glow, clouds and haze layered a thousandfold.
Bai Yujun sat beneath a purplish-red flowering tree, staring blankly at the ruins. That once exquisite immortal palace was gone, replaced by ruins filling the sky—stones of every size and fragments of buildings drifting everywhere. Two colossal floating immortal islands even hung crookedly in the air, barely holding on.
Creak... boom...
She remained seated on the rock as the flowering tree behind her crashed down.
The old tree's collapse stirred a faint breeze, making her snow-white silver hair sway. The White Dragon Scales on her cheeks and brow caught strands of hair, making them itch, yet she did not move, her eyes still fixed on the ruins.
To hell with this age of heroic fortunes. Let them all wait for death. Did they really think they were wrapped head to toe in heaven-blessed halos?
Bai Yujun had already decided how she would make a fortune next.
Of course, by making coffins.
Outside the South Heavenly Gate.
Tens of thousands of rebel prisoners packed the docks.
They were all ordinary Heavenly Soldiers who had yet to become immortals, along with a small number of mortal immortals and Grand Immortals. The powerful ones had all fled. Rebellions were basically always like this: if they won, the rebel leaders and upper ranks enjoyed the spoils; if they lost, those same leaders abandoned the Cannon Fodder and ran. Such had always been the case, ancient and modern alike.
The mighty general hurried before Erlang Shen and raised the matter of the prisoners.
"True Lord, how should these rebels be dealt with? According to the heavenly laws, they all deserve death."
Hearing this, Erlang Shen did not even glance at the prisoners.
"Killing them