The north wind beat its drums; black clouds pressed down like banners.
Wang Yiwu lifted the tent flap and entered.
His tall, lean frame was like a slender spear, honed ever colder and brighter through years of war. His stride remained measured as though by ruler and compass, each step taking root in the earth. Yet his deep-set eyes seemed to have gathered mist; the frost condensed from killing intent instead traced a touch of softness upon him.
"You've waited a long time," he said.
His voice, too, had grown colder and sterner. War was best at cutting away superfluous emotions. The nearest distance between life and death could make one forget why one had ever set out so far.
She Shiyu, pierced through the torture rack by Essence-Locking Hooks, abruptly raised his head. Beneath his tangled hair was a pair of bloodshot eyes. "Wang Yiwu—you think you've beaten me? You merely reaped what others sowed. Your victory is dishonorable!"
He had been held in this command tent for three days.
Three days ago, the allied armies of the heavens had collapsed across the board. The Demon Race's main force had retreated in full, and the Demon Emperor had used [Ink Bearer] to shatter the Homecoming Blood Gate.
As the foremost young general of the Demon Race, he too had been among the warriors abandoned.
He had volunteered to contend with Wang Yiwu in the Jade Cosmos Star Continent. It was not merely to renew their old rivalry of mutual cavalry hunts on the Demon Realm battlefield, but also because this formidable Qi State army had been sweeping through the Jade Cosmos Star Continent like split bamboo. A commander of sufficient weight had to step forth, shoulder the responsibility, and blunt the edge of its advance.
He was the heir