This day.
Travel-worn and weathered, his entire body still stained with dried blood that could not be washed away, he finally stepped into the southern border like an old man on the brink of the grave. Along the way, how many cultivators of the myriad races had he killed? How many Immortal Passes had he breached?
He could no longer count. Many things had already blurred in his mind.
Once.
He had believed he could enter the southern border without anyone noticing and blend in among the cultivators of the myriad races. But after shattering Immortal Pass after Immortal Pass and slaughtering his way here, he no longer harbored such thoughts. This time, he could not cross the pass quietly.
Many years ago, old friends had still fought alongside him, bathed in blood.
Now, only he remained.
Wang Qicang's gaze was heavy as he stepped toward the border, one step at a time. More than ten million troops were stationed at the southern border, the most elite army of the myriad-race alliance in the Three Thousand Immortal Domains. Dozens of Immortal Artifacts even suppressed the border.
The number of Immortals there had always been unknown.
To clash head-on and break through the pass was pure fantasy.
But unfortunately, a head-on clash was all he had left. There was no road back, nor was there any room for regret. He could only press onward.
Whoosh...
Vast yellow sands drifted past.
Before his eyes was neither the sight of the myriad races of the Three Thousand Immortal Domains mingling with foreign-domain races, nor the chaos of fish and dragons mixed together. There was only a boundless battlefield. Directly ahead of him, an army of one hundred thousand Tribulation Transcendence cultivators stood in formation.
At the very front of the formation stood a