Amid the bloody, mangled remains, someone bent down and grabbed several wrists. After confirming that the nameplates on their bracelets all belonged to the Mystic Continent Forces, he whistled to summon the fifty-odd survivors and warned them, "They really were the Mystic Continent Forces, but not the forces that represent its true strength."
His gaze swept over his bloodstained, battered companions. With regret written across his face, he looked skyward and sighed. "Our Skyfall Meteor Assembly has ended early. Find somewhere to hide and stay there until we can leave. Let's retreat!"
"We didn't provoke them. They came after us first," someone grumbled.
But everyone knew complaints were useless. Strength did the talking in this world. They had killed so many people from Mystic Continent that its elite forces would almost certainly come after them once they learned of it. They could not withstand that, especially now, with their strength so diminished.
And so the fifty-odd battered survivors withdrew, carrying hearts full of regret, bodies covered in wounds, and everything they had harvested thus far. Leaving a ground strewn with corpses behind them, they swiftly fled into the distance...
"Chief!"
"Chief, we were wrong..."
Wails rose on all sides. The defeated Mystic Continent Forces knelt outside the cave where Shi Chun was staying—the very place where they had stood brimming with confidence yesterday.
Now they sobbed, tears and snot streaming down their faces. They were filled with remorse and bitter regret, wishing they had listened to his advice.
Only after this battle did they truly understand the gap between elites and a disorganized rabble. Those were elite sects standing at the very pinnacle of a continent, not opponents they could easily overwhelm through numbers alone. Only now did they realize the Chief had been right. They had forced his hand