Gu Yuena: The plane's suppression used to work just fine, then suddenly vanished. Could that sun be behind it?

Lin Yan was starting to feel unnerved, too.

The livestream footage had not been edited at all.

The Abyss's spiritual power sent the battlefield camera shaking wildly.

Yet the more it shook, the more real it felt.

One second, a soldier was shouting himself hoarse, ordering a retreat. The next, the camera lurched toward the snow-half his body was already gone.

His lips were so pale they had turned blue, his pupils rapidly lost focus, and blood still seeped from all seven orifices.

Farther away, Soul Cannon fire lit half the sky a ghastly white.

Countless people were falling back across the snow, their cries mingling with commands so chaotic they distorted over the communications channel. Even through a screen, it made his chest tighten.

Lin Yan said nothing.

Of course he had seen war.

In the Ninth Era and the Tenth Era, far more people had died than here.

Some worlds had even been switched off by his own hand.

A city destroyed, an army annihilated, over a million people dead.

To him, standing outside those worlds back then, it had ultimately amounted to nothing more than a set of changes in World Origin and the power fed back into his body.

Now it was different.

The camera was too close.

Close enough for him to see the fear on every face.

Lin Yan's fingers tightened unconsciously around his communicator.

He suddenly thought of his father.

That man, whose image had grown increasingly blurred in his memories, had also died on the Abyssal Battlefield.

No body, no belongings. All that had returned to the Lin Family in the end was a notice and a survivor's benefit.

Lin Yan had rarely thought about exactly how that man had died. Now, watching the livestream, an image suddenly formed in his mind.