Liu Biehan, God-Monarch Ziyang, and the others remained in Mo Yang Immortal City, waiting for Su Fan to emerge from seclusion as though each day were a year.
This wait lasted nearly half a year, and every passing moment felt like torment.
At the same time, the world-shaking war in the Yuanmang Constellation had long since sunk into a stalemate.
The Human Race's situation grew more difficult by the day, their passive position worsening with each passing dawn.
The flames of this war had already burned for more than a year, and every battlefield was like a gigantic meat grinder devouring lives.
Countless Human Race cultivators threw themselves forward one after another, only to be swallowed by the flames of war in an instant, leaving not even the faintest trace behind.
Of course, the Devil Race's casualties were not small either; in sheer numbers, they far exceeded the Human Race's.
But they had long since made every preparation, and cultivators from the various Devil Race tribes poured in endlessly, an inexhaustible tide.
This kind of war of attrition was only a matter of time for the Devil Race. They could afford the cost, and they could endure it.
As the decline of the war situation became increasingly obvious, Liu Biehan, God-Monarch Ziyang, and the others finally could no longer suppress the anxiety in their hearts. If they kept waiting like this, when would it ever end?
At last, they made up their minds and began contacting God-Monarch Wunian of the Great World, hoping only to use some method to locate Su Fan's exact whereabouts.
The present Human Race urgently needed someone capable of pulling back the raging tide, and Liu Biehan, God-Monarch Ziyang, and the others were no different.
Only now, as the war situation in the Yuanmang Constellation grew