At last, Zhao Lei seized an opening. He leaped into the air, his Heavy Sword carrying the force of ten thousand jun, and cleaved down at the Shadow Hunter's head.
The Shadow Hunter tried to dodge, but it was already too late.
With a soft splat, the Heavy Sword split the Shadow Hunter's head apart, shattering the Demon Core condensed with dense Shadow Power along with it.
The Shadow Hunter let out a shrill wail, and its body instantly collapsed, turning into wisps of black smoke that dispersed into the air.
Having lost their leader, the Shadow Demons charged about like headless flies, their offensive immediately weakening considerably.
Seeing this, the disciples' morale soared, and they launched their counterattack one after another.
Like fierce tigers descending the mountain, they charged into the Shadow Demon horde, the weapons in their hands growing ever sharper and fiercer.
Without command, the Shadow Demons had no power to resist. They were cut down one by one by the disciples, their scattered Shadow Power blooming continuously in the night sky like black fireworks.
The battle lasted nearly two hours. By the time the last Shadow Demon was slain, dawn was already breaking.
The campsite was a complete mess. Weapons, medicinal pills, damaged tents, and the blood shed by the disciples lay scattered across the ground.
Most of them were covered in wounds, their clothes torn and ragged, their faces filled with exhaustion and sweat. Yet in every pair of eyes shone the relief of surviving a calamity and the resolve forged after battle.
They supported one another as they checked each other's injuries, smiles of comfort appearing on their faces.
Hua Qiang slowly opened his eyes, rose to his feet, and walked before the disciples.
His gaze swept across the crowd. Seeing that the disciples