The night was cold, the flames of war fierce. The battle of kings was nearing its end.
The two kings plummeted from the heavens like blazing meteors, smashing the entire wasteland deep into the earth. The earth-shattering sight filled every heart with dread.
In the distance, the Four Xuan Guards sensed it, their faces struck with shock. Disregarding everything, they withdrew from the battle and sped forward.
Thousands of miles away, beneath the shattered earth, Xuan Que staggered to his feet and spat out a mouthful of blood.
His demon body was stained red, cracks spreading all over it. Xuan Que barely steadied himself, looking at the Third Prince lying fallen amid the earth, a trace of complexity flashing through his weary eyes.
In the end, they had still come to this step.
Demonic essence gathered. Xuan Que raised his fist, and his all-out blow punched straight through the Third Prince's chest.
"Cough."
Xuan Qing opened his eyes and coughed up a mouthful of crimson blood. His increasingly unfocused gaze looked at the Ninth Prince before him as he rasped, "Ninth Brother, beware Thirteenth Brother!"
As his words fell, Xuan Qing's hands dropped limply. He had fought all his life, schemed all his life, yet in the end, he had still died to another's schemes. How bitterly ironic, how sorrowful.
Xuan Que raised a hand to wipe away the blood at his lips, forcibly suppressing the injuries within him. Looking at the fallen Third Prince, his expression grew ever more complicated.
Had it been in the past, he might have fallen for such attempts to drive a wedge between them. But now, it was impossible.
"Ninth Imperial Brother, congratulations."
At that moment, a plain-clothed figure appeared in the sky. He slowly descended and arrived beside the Ninth Prince, then spoke.