Hearing this, Murong Huai didn't stand on ceremony. He took the Head Soul Bone directly. "All right, then I won't hold back, Senior Brother."
"Take it. From here on, your senior brother should also start preparing to take charge of Spirit Hall." Qian Xunji nodded in satisfaction.
The next day, outside the city, at the Black Flame Army Camp.
The Black Flame Army Camp stood on the barren plain, its iron armor looming like a forest of deathly stillness. The camp was vast enough to accommodate an army of a hundred thousand.
The tents hung low, their banners snapping, yet not a whisper of wind could be heard. Only the cold gleam of blades cut through the dusk. The sentries stood motionless as stone statues, their eyes blazing with endless killing intent.
The air was thick with the smell of rust and gunpowder; every breath felt like swallowing death. The murderous aura congealed into something tangible, sending chills down one's spine, as if time itself had stopped here.
Spirit Hall had two kinds of military camps: ordinary camps and Black Flame Army camps. As the Black Flame Army's commander, Murong Fuhai naturally stayed in the Black Flame Army Camp.
Outside the camp, a large carriage rolled slowly toward the gates. The sentries immediately stepped forward to stop it.
"The Black Flame Army Camp lies ahead. Carriages are forbidden. Leave at once!"
Four people stepped down from the carriage. They were Murong Huai and the others. Yue Guan stepped forward, took out the Holy Son Token, and said:
"This is His Highness the Holy Son of Spirit Hall, Murong Huai. We're here to see Marshal Murong."
Hearing this, the soldier took the token and confirmed it was genuine. The soldiers exchanged glances, respect appearing in their eyes, then cupped their