When Wang Xuan returned to the camp, night had already fallen completely.
In the distance, lightning from the heavenly army's grand formation still churned within the clouds. Occasionally, a few aftershocks swept across the Evil-Dispelling Thunder Generals' camp, making the ground tremble faintly.
The tent flap fell, shutting out both the sounds of slaughter and the stench of blood.
He sat cross-legged, hands resting on his knees, assuming the posture of regulating his breath to restore his Dharma Power.
The footsteps of patrolling heavenly soldiers came from outside the tent. Armor plates clinked together in a dull rhythm.
Wang Xuan did not move. He remained seated cross-legged, but his thoughts drifted far away.
A hundred years ago, he had just arrived in the Primordial World with nothing to his name.
His reason for joining the Heavenly Court had been simple: to borrow its power and obtain stronger cultivation methods and inheritances.
The Heavenly Court was the orthodox authority of the Three Realms, controlling the Primordial World's most immense resources and most complete inheritance system.
But what was reality like?
Not long after he joined the Heavenly Court, war had broken out in Northern Kuru Continent.
The Demon Race army clashed with the Heavenly Court, and the flames of war swept across all of Northern Kuru Continent.
As an Evil-Dispelling Thunder General with neither background nor patron, he had been dispatched to the front lines at the first opportunity, becoming one of the cannon fodder among countless heavenly soldiers.
Over these hundred years, instead of cultivation methods and inheritances, he had faced endless slaughter, bloodshed, and death every day.
At dawn, they formed their ranks. The heavenly soldiers launched the main assault while the Evil-Dispelling Thunder Generals provided support, intercepting demon soldiers who slipped through, repairing weak points in the formation,