Max Out Proficiency, Grind Your Way into a Mortal Sword Immortal

As for completely keeping them out, that was nearly impossible. This wasn't a protracted war, but a lightning campaign.

A powerful race was trading endless lives for a way to win the war.

It was almost flawless.

The Fox Tribe refused to accept their fate, but now that their chieftain had failed to force his way into the Eighth Realm, it seemed failure was already turning its favor toward them.

What could those who remained possibly do?

Even their mighty chieftain might not be able to withstand that fearsome blood shadow in the sky.

They could only keep launching attacks through the Mountain Protecting Array to harass their enemies, but it was like scratching an itch through a boot—seemingly useless.

The two mighty phantoms had almost condensed all the power of their respective tribes.

One side occupied the Mountain Protecting Array, with the advantage of favorable terrain and people on its side. The other had overwhelming strength and the advantage of timing.

The violent crash of their collision rang out in the sky as the two phantoms fought as if their lives depended on it.

Yun Shu lowered his eyes slightly. If things continued like this, the outcome would probably be decided soon.

He didn't care about the process; he only cared about the result. As long as he could get his hands on things like the Fox Tribe, that would be enough. As for the tribal war between the two great races before him, he wasn't particularly interested.

It was merely one part of his plan.

The seed had already been planted. Now all that remained was to wait for it to bloom and bear fruit.

He trusted these people wouldn't disappoint him.

As for the countless tribespeople below, who were madly sacrificing themselves for the glory of their