Every time Qing Chen struck, he seemed to have reached his limit.
Once, the power of the Yin River even tore great wounds across his body.
Yet the next time the Black Fox King came, the fellow could still stand above his million-strong army, clutching that battered spear and cursing him.
"Old Black Fox dog, have you come to deliver more military merit to me today?"
"I've almost finished digging out all your spirit mines, yet you still have the leisure to wander around here? You really are useless!"
"A Spirit Transformation cultivator fighting a Nascent Soul cultivator, and you haven't won after months. If I were you, I'd have dashed my head against the walls of Yin River City long ago, rather than disgrace the Golden Tent Khanate!"
At first, the Black Fox King could still respond calmly.
But as the fighting dragged on, the fury in his heart grew harder and harder to suppress.
However cunning he was, he was still a barbarian.
Deep in his blood flowed the bloodthirsty, warlike nature of the Golden Tent barbarians.
What was more, he was a Spirit Transformation cultivator.
What humiliation.
At the end of the fifth month.
Inside the temporary royal tent erected north of Three-Yin Returning Wind Ridge, a vast map of military deployments slowly shifted.
The Black Fox King stared at the map for a long time, then suddenly raised his head.
"Master Yue."
Yue Ting, seated to his right, immediately rose and cupped his hands. "Great King."
"I have already slain a hundred thousand of Qing Chen's Dao soldiers." The eerie light in the Black Fox King's eyes sent chills down the spine. "Why haven't they collapsed yet? These Dao soldiers are tougher than any in the past thousand years."
Yue Ting remained silent for a moment