What made everyone even more uneasy was how the thunderbolts suddenly dispersed from time to time, as if they were just playing around. The sight sent chills down many people's backs, and they feared one might suddenly come crashing down.
Of the nearly eight hundred thousand cultivators, more than a hundred thousand had been sent to hold back the Fifth Continent's cultivators. The rest raced toward the Magnetic Pole.
In this universe, the Sixth Continent was bound to be outnumbered. Tens of thousands of Fifth Continent cultivators were delaying the Sixth Continent's forces, while at least two million cultivators were fighting the Sixth Continent head-on.
In a one-on-one fight, the Fifth Continent was no match for the Sixth Continent. But having greater numbers was an advantage too.
When Lu Yin saw the countless cultivators surging toward them like a dark tide, he was shaken. This was a battlefield unlike the wars in the starry sky—more brutal and bloodier.
The starry sky battlefields saw millions, or even tens of millions, of people deployed at once. But most stayed hidden inside their ships. It was normal for tens of thousands to die when a ship was destroyed, yet those people turned to ash instantly. They could neither be seen nor felt. This battlefield, on the other hand, was a millstone of blood and flesh. The only thing comparable was a border war.
In truth, this war was no different from a border war. The two sides were bound by an irreconcilable blood feud.
The Magnetic Pole lay at the center of the three islands. Millions of cultivators from the Fifth and Sixth Continents began a desperate battle across them.
"Brother, I feel like we really hit it off. Tell me your name," Ling Que said to the Sixth Continent cultivator he'd been