The night mist gradually retreated, and the first faint light of dawn appeared.
The wasteland slowly emerged in its true form. Near the moat, the toppled siege engines still gave off wisps of blue smoke.
Warhorses lay dead on the ground, riddled with arrows, and the bodies of the barbarian warriors still awaited collection.
The city walls had been blasted full of holes... yet not a single figure remained atop or below them.
Even General Qin Wentian had vanished into hiding, no longer concerned with the battle on the wasteland.
Since the prince had declared the battle over, there was no need for him to concern himself with what came next.
The barbarian soldiers would take care of the battlefield. He would not trouble himself over it.
A faint glimmer on the horizon had yet to fully divide heaven from earth.
Standing alone in the wind, Gudumou looked desolate and lonely, with a hint of bewilderment.
He could not understand where the youth, hidden in the wind and armed with demonic arts, had found the confidence and courage to pronounce his death sentence before they had even crossed swords at close quarters.
Whoooosh!
The wind rose.
The old man looked up. The youth who had been concealed in the wind across the wasteland had disappeared from before his eyes, only to reappear atop Jinling Ford's towering wall.
In the morning breeze, Jinling Ford seemed like a horned dragon stretched across heaven and earth. The youth stood quietly upon its back, his white robes fluttering.
At the sight of him, Gudumou flared with rage.
He glared up at the high wall and let out a low growl. "I haven't lost yet. What gives you the right to leave? Are you afraid I'll kill you?"
Just as the old man was about