The Campaign

Gazing at the bright moon hanging in the sky, Shi Lan suddenly remembered her first meeting with Wu Lingkong.

Back then, Wu Lingkong had said that many of the junior officers in the Demon Suppression Army were young scions of the great powers in the Central Heaven Domain, most of them there for experience.

Thinking about it now, that was probably true. From what Wang Ning had said, Xia Yixiu—the one who had kept the younger generation of the Shengwu Immortal Sect from holding their heads high—must have been one of them.

Otherwise, it was hard to believe that any random person from the Central Heaven Domain could possess such talent.

If that were really the case, the human race would have unified the Lingyang Realm long ago.

After letting her thoughts wander aimlessly for a long while, Shi Lan shook her head, stopped dwelling on it, and turned back into her tent.

At dawn, just as the sky began to lighten, the thunderous clatter of hooves rang across the drill grounds.

Squadrons of iron cavalry poured out of their camps, gathering into a black torrent that converged on the grounds.

A tall platform rose above the field. Eight figures stood atop it, their terrifying power of the laws laid bare, tearing through clouds for thousands of miles and shaking the heavens.

The familiar pre-battle roll call and rousing speeches only stirred the newcomers who had just joined the Demon Suppression Army.

Seated on her horned horse, Shi Lan gazed at the platform, thoroughly uninterested. Her thoughts drifted aimlessly as she wondered whether she should find time to visit the Nicheang Pavilion and retrieve the Moon Extreme Skirt.

The formations on the drill grounds gradually dispersed. Troops left in successive waves, departing Immortal Martial City and boarding warships outside