Outside the Stone Hall, shouts of battle and flashes of fire still alternated.
The blades and halberds of the barbarian soldiers collided, their force shaking the mountains. Lingli of every color surged, exceptionally distinct in the night.
Wounded soldiers were continually carried into the Stone Hall.
Just then, Elder Bachuan also arrived and began arranging for people to treat the wounded.
Mo Hua asked Elder Bachuan, "The Bifang Tribe?"
Elder Bachuan was steady by nature. He nodded, suppressing his fury as he said:
"Those thieves from the Bifang Tribe took advantage of the night to launch a sudden attack. Like madmen, they came at us with killing intent."
Mo Hua looked at the blue-black wounds on the chests of the dead and wounded soldiers and frowned. "Were these people all killed by Bi Jie?"
Elder Bachuan nodded. "Yes."
"Where is Young Master Danzhu?"
"He is at the foot of the mountain, fighting Bi Jie and the Bifang Tribe's Golden Core Cultivators alongside Elder Chi Feng. I... am no match for them."
Shame appeared on Bachuan's face.
He could fight an ordinary Golden Core Cultivator.
But against someone like Bi Jie, there was nothing he could do. His background was poor to begin with, and his magic artifacts were nothing remarkable.
Thus, at this moment, he could only follow orders to handle the aftermath and guard the rear.
Mo Hua nodded slightly, left the Stone Hall, and raised his head toward the distance. In the darkness, he saw crimson-red and blue-black colors intertwined.
The crimson-red radiance was dazzling, like the magnificent feathers of a Vermilion Bird.
The blue-black blade-light was gloomy, like an omen of Bifang calamity.
Beyond that, there was a figure wreathed in fire, even his hair blazing crimson. He slashed out streak after streak of blade-light with immense