Just when Chen Hao was at his wit's end, suddenly, a wave-like burst of red flames erupted from behind him, then surged forward with a roaring ferocity.

In an instant, the verdant rain and flurry of white snow falling from the sky were all evaporated by the fiercely hot flames; and the water that had infiltrated the dust within the bodies of the undead warriors was also completely eradicated.

Without the spirit-infused rainwater, the dust flowed more rapidly into the Sword of Dust. In the blink of an eye, all the dust had returned to the sword.

Chen Hao looked back, only to see Ye Yuqiao's Nether Soul Body unfolding her blazing wings. Then he nodded slightly at her, as a gesture of his heartfelt gratitude.

"It's that woman!" the Ghost King muttered to himself, looking at Ye Yuqiao's Nether Soul Body. Unlike before, Ye Yuqiao's Nether Soul Body was not wearing a mask, allowing him to see her face.

After seeing the face of Ye Yuqiao's Nether Soul Body, the Ghost King was stunned, "How is it that she looks exactly like the Fourth Generation Underworld King."

Regaining his senses, the Ghost King observed carefully and quickly noticed the difference: this Fourth Generation Underworld King in front of him had neither a Yin Soul nor a Yang Spirit!

This was different from the Fourth Generation Underworld King he had seen outside the Netherworld City a few days ago.

"What exactly is the relationship between her and the Fourth Generation Underworld King?" the Ghost King was greatly puzzled.

Just then, King Wumeng, not far from the Ghost King, shouted a command, "Fire arrows!"

With no further interference from the undead soldiers of the Dust Tribe, the archers of the Ghost King Battalion aimed their arrows precisely at the walls of Wushuang City.

After a series of "whooshing" sounds, Chen Hao saw that the space around him was filled with countless arrows, dazzling his eyes.

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

At the same time, numerous fire stones burst from the catapults, smashing towards Wushuang City.

The hazy sky that had been overcast above Wushuang City changed abruptly due to the innumerable arrows and the fire stones bursting into flames.

Seeing the onslaught of arrows and fire stones, Zhao Chong and Qian Feng successively ordered their soldiers to bring out shields, and in an instant, the crowded ramparts of the city wall were covered with piece after piece of black, icy shields.

Then, Qian Feng leaped high into the air and quickly threw three rings from his left hand, releasing three beasts with sturdy shells. The beasts lunged into the air and plunged into the ranks of the Ghost King Battalion's archers, then began to tear at the enemy with their bites. Their massive bodies swung left and right, toppling dozens of archers in a single sweep.

The Ghost King, King Qingyu, and King Wumeng immediately rushed over to face the three beasts.

Seizing the moment, Zhao Chong waved his left hand, and a severe trembling emerged from the snow beneath the Ghost King Battalion's position. Subsequently, over ten thousand low-lying troops burrowed out from the snow, letting out ear-splitting cries as they raised their swords to charge at the enemy.

After them, over a hundred thousand soldiers mounted on warhorses also charged out of Wushuang City, and both sides plunged into a ferocious melee.

This battle was the largest in the history of the Netherworld, with a total of over three hundred thousand participants.

The world that had been filled with endless snow had been replaced by the cold gleam of blades, the shadows of swords, and crimson-stained snow.

Watching such a brutal scene, the Ghost King remained utterly unmoved. He retreated to the rear, his gaze firmly fixed on Chen Hao up on the city walls.

On the contrary, the sight of blood and dismembered bodies swirling through the air struck Chen Hao with horror, rendering him speechless.

Real war was far more terrible than anything he had imagined.

A while later, unable to bear the gruesome scene any longer, Chen Hao turned to look at Zhao Chong and Qian Feng beside him.

Just as he expected, Zhao Chong had a furrowed brow, while Qian Feng's face was expressionless. Their attitudes towards the war were completely different.

He then looked to Ye Yuqiao's Nether Soul Body on his right, only to see Ye Yuqiao's Nether Soul Body smiling at him, seemingly more focused on him than on the cruel battle unfolding before them.

With a sigh, Chen Hao silently closed his eyes.

"Chen Hao, this is hard for you," said Ye Yuqiao's Yang Spirit, "You're a kind person; you shouldn't have to see this."

"Yuqiao, I really want to see you," Chen Hao said.

"Then come into the Nether Acupoint. This war will last a long time; just come out when you're needed," she replied.

Chen Hao hummed in agreement, conjuring a purple vortex above his head, and leaped into it.

"Chen Hao, why are you hiding? You're not in any danger!" Ye Yuqiao's Nether Soul Body sent him a secret message.

Chen Hao, having entered the Nether Acupoint, ignored it and threw himself into the embrace of Ye Yuqiao's Yang Spirit, like a helpless and bewildered child.

"Chen Hao, it's all right, it's all right, war is always like this," Ye Yuqiao soothed, patting his back.

"Yuqiao, after the war is over, can we leave this place of strife together?" Chen Hao asked with a trembling voice.

Ye Yuqiao hummed in response, still wearing the ice ring that Chen Hao had given her that night on her hand.

..

..

After two days and a night, the largest-scale battle finally came to an end.

Both the Ghost King Battalion and the seven great families had lost, defeated by the heavy snow. Unable to withstand the cold and hunger, both sides eventually chose to retreat unanimously.

Despite a heart filled with reluctance, even the Ghost King, who had experienced the ups and downs of life several times, had to admit defeat in the face of nature.

While the allied forces of the seven families retreated to the warm comforts of Wushuang City, his soldiers were not so lucky, continuing to endure the biting cold within the snow-blown forest.

The night was deep.

And the snow was still falling.

Outside the tent, the Ghost King looked up at the snowflakes in the sky, feeling a newfound respect for the snow after the battle.

"Ugh, ah!" The cries of pain from the wounded soldiers nearby were ceaseless. In this war, his camp had lost more than twenty thousand soldiers and had over thirty thousand wounded. Among them, nearly ten thousand were missing, either captured or buried beneath the heavy snow.

"Ghost King!" King Wumeng, who had just finished comforting the soldiers, walked up behind the Ghost King.

"How are the soldiers holding up?" asked the Ghost King. "Can they fight again in three days?"

King Wumeng's expression darkened, and he shook his head, saying, "It's still unclear."

He was disappointed. At this time, the Ghost King was still thinking about fighting again, instead of retreating.

"Although we have suffered heavy casualties this time, the allied forces of the seven families aren't in much better shape. If we hold on for a few more battles, when both sides' forces are nearly exhausted, that will be our time to claim victory."

King Wumeng sighed inwardly.

..

..

The night was deep.

In the howling cold wind, the soldiers of the Ghost King Battalion fell into a deep sleep, even those on night duty lacked the strength to stand guard, listlessly warming themselves around the fire.

Just then, several eerie, piercing cries sounded through the white expanse of night.

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