Su Yueli wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth.
"You haven't broken through yet."
"Soon."
Motian Xing felt the power within him, and his smile grew wider.
"One last battle is all I need."
"Do you think they'll stop?"
He looked down.
The armies of Great Xun and Great Qian still faced each other.
Both sides had just lost vast numbers of cultivators.
The truth had not erased their hatred.
Many still stared at the enemy ranks, killing intent in their eyes.
Motian Xing spread his arms and swallowed the last shreds of resentment before Su Yueli's eyes.
The cries of the dead vanished completely.
In their place came laughter that drowned out the entire battlefield.
"Keep killing."
"Once enough people have died, I'll send every last one of you to join them."
"Keep killing."
"Once enough people have died, I'll send every last one of you to join them."
Motian Xing's voice rang across the Red Sand Plains.
The millions of cultivators below heard every word.
The armies of Great Xun and Great Qian still stood poised to attack, but now no one dared give the order.
They looked at the black figure in the sky, their faces filled with terror.
Too many had died in this war between the two dynasties.
Everyone had said they fought for their homeland, their sects, and their fallen comrades.
But in the end, every corpse had become fuel for Motian Xing's breakthrough.
Every enemy they killed only added to the true enemy's strength.
Great Qian's commander gripped his command token. His lips moved several times, but no sound came out.
He suddenly no longer knew whether the battle should continue.
If they withdrew, what would become of the cities they had taken?
If they stayed, who would survive once Motian