What a tragic and heroic scene it was.
Beneath the cries of slaughter, the remaining cultivators of the Foreign Realm trembled to their very souls. As they gazed at the blood-red figure atop the mountain of corpses, fear took root in their hearts.
Through these ten days of bloody battle, the beings of both realms seemed to have gone blood-mad. The entire battlefield had become a meat grinder, and even warriors forged of iron would have grown weary.
Moreover, the Foreign Realm's cultivators had invaded, while the cultivators of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths fought to protect their home. Their purposes and convictions were different.
"Kill! Slaughter these Foreign Realm bastards! If you lose your hands, use your feet! If you lose your feet too, use your teeth! Even in death, bite a chunk of flesh off them!"
The cultivators of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths were like mad demons, like malicious ghosts that had crawled out of hell, their eyes fierce and their presence bloodthirsty.
To protect this land, they were willing to become asuras and sink into damnation for eternity!
At this sight, the Foreign Realm's cultivators turned pale. They had never feared killing, and their hands were stained with the blood of countless enemies, but these enemies had become malicious ghosts coming to claim their lives.
In the heavens, three ancestors stood watch over the army. Though outwardly calm, they had already clenched their fists until their knuckles turned white.
"We can't keep fighting! The people of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths have all gone mad!"
The Foreign Realm's cultivators began retreating, no longer daring to charge forward. Their morale plummeted like an ebbing tide.
Too many had died in this battle-no fewer than a hundred thousand on either side. Corpses littered the land.