The wind over the Tagor Desert seemed tinged with blood.
Above the Snake-Person Holy City, the seven-colored protective formation had thinned until it was almost transparent.
Cyan-black phoenix feathers slashed down from the heavens again and again, each strike like a blade pressed down by a Dou Zun's own hand, crushing the entire Holy City until it let out groans of unbearable strain. Beneath the protective formation, the old and weak of the Snake-People Tribe huddled around the altar. Many looked up at that tottering seven-colored light barrier, and there were no cries in their eyes, only the silence of those driven into a dead end.
Outside the city, the Three-Nation Allied Forces were still pressing forward.
Chu Yun's poisonous mist surged like a tide, the Luo Yan Feather Formation blotted out the sky, and Mu Lan's beast army trampled the yellow sand until it trembled.
The Jia Ma Empire's military banner had snapped in half. Jia Xingtian's chest was stained with blood, half of Hai Bodong's ice wing was shattered, and Mu Chen stood on the sand wall with a long spear as support, his voice already shouted hoarse, yet he was still roaring over and over for them to hold the line.
The Snake-People and Jia Ma had once been enemies.
But today, they all stood before the same city.
Because they all understood that if they retreated in this battle, what fell back would not be a border, nor a city, but their people and their lands, crushed together.
At the highest point of the altar, Queen Medusa stood alone amid the windblown sand.
Her purple dress was stained with blood, her long hair tossed into disorder by the yellow sand. A few strands clung to her pale cheeks, and the blood made her cold, stunning brows