Large-scale battles were completely different from ordinary duels.
When two people fought, or a few people, even several hundred people, the fighting tended toward spells and magical treasures. All manner of mysterious methods, combined with secret arts and Spiritual Treasures, tested cultivators' ability to adapt. Spells, poison, illusions, spiritual attacks, traps—it was exceedingly complex.
But a battlefield of tens of thousands was savage and cruel, weapons gleaming with frost and danger lurking everywhere.
Whether mediocre folk or heaven-favored prodigies, once swept into slaughter like a Flesh Grinder, they could only survive for a brief moment. Ten thousand methods became pale and powerless; what was tested was teamwork.
In battle, even those with wealthy estates and treasures covering their bodies would see them rapidly flicker and collapse. They were more likely to draw attention and meet an unwilling end beneath a chaotic rain of blades.
The overwhelming majority of ordinary soldiers could only announce their withering through blossoming flowers of blood.
On the warship at the rear.
By the rosy light of the rising sun, the officials saw the madness and brutality of the battlefield. Sweat beaded General Xiong's temples, while the local Red Robe Official was still shaken with fear, grateful to be standing at the rear rather than charging ahead. Both sides had already gone mad with killing.
At the fiercest point of the battlefield, a sky-filling blood mist arose, while Light Pillars continuously shot up from every direction.
In the sky and on the ground, valiant and brutal clashes could be seen everywhere.
Somewhere on the battlefield, having witnessed countless comrades die and fall, an ordinary Human soldier was furious and despairing.
"Ram it! Even if we die, we'll smash open that shield wall!"
Clutching his heavy shield, he roared and charged desperately, hurling his flesh-and-blood body against