Arriving at the northern wall, Li Qingxian and the others dismounted and climbed up.
The battle cries outside the city grew louder. The clash of blades and spears rang clearly in their ears, and the smell of blood suddenly thickened.
Li Qingxian bowed first. "Your nephew Li Qingxian greets Uncle Song and Uncle Zhou."
Song Yunjing nodded with a smile. "Chunfeng told me all about you. Good! You've made something of yourself!"
Zhou Chunfeng looked Li Qingxian over and smiled. "How did it feel to be caught in the Eerie this time?"
"I'd rather not feel it," Li Qingxian said.
Everyone chuckled.
After exchanging greetings, they turned to face north, beyond the city.
Under the clear dusk sky, the Demon Race camps stretched together in an unbroken expanse outside the city, trampling crops and covering the farmland.
Between the walls and the Demon Race's main camp, demons howled as they assaulted the city.
Heavy crossbows and archers fired in orderly succession along the broad walls, while catapults behind them hurled great stones one after another.
In the middle, literary cultivators, Dao cultivators, and puppet cultivators fought in concert, while martial cultivators and non-cultivators held the front.
Boulders, rolling logs, burning oil, and other defenses rained down on the demons in succession.
Li Qingxian took out the Grand Confucian Fragment and handed it to Zhou Chunfeng. "Uncle Zhou, your book."
Zhou Chunfeng accepted it.
The Demon Race's assault was not particularly fierce at the moment, so everyone stood on the wall discussing the battle, assessing the situation, and considering tactics.
The officers defending Beichen City complained that everything else was manageable, but supplies were desperately short. Even Song Yunjing and Zhou Chunfeng could only have a bowl of thin gruel with each meal. The only reason everyone had not starved to