The magic of the Cultivation Race truly possesses unparalleled power, as if the mysterious forces of ancient times have awakened at this moment.

Their attacks, like raging tides, instantly swept the people of Divine Sword Manor into greater peril.

Some were hit by the magic, and in a split second, the deafening boom sounded like thunder erupting from flat ground, reverberating continually throughout the valley. Those struck immediately turned into a dazzling light, which then dissipated, leaving only a faint wisp of smoke, gently drifting away in the howling mountain wind, as if they had never existed in this world.

Others were blown away by the immense power, their bodies like projectiles shot out at astonishing speed. A heavy "thump" of impact resounded, causing the ground to tremble violently, as if the earth could hardly withstand the force of the impact.

Their bodies rolled several times on the hard ground, kicking up a cloud of dust, and finally halted, no longer showing any signs of life, their life force extinguished like a flickering candle in the wind, rapidly vanishing on this relentless battlefield.

Under the combined attacks, the people of Divine Sword Manor finally could no longer withstand the onslaught akin to a collapsing mountain, and began to retreat one after another.

Their originally rock-solid Sword Array had now completely crumbled and fallen apart.

The previously orderly, machine-like operation of the troop had become chaotic and fragmented, akin to scattered sand, lacking any formation.

Of the three hundred robust men, only a few remained, barely countable. Their faces were white as paper, devoid of any color, their eyes revealing deep fear and despair, akin to trapped beasts with no escape, filled with helplessness and sorrow.

They fled in panic like stray dogs, their footsteps hurried and disordered, the "dada" sound of their fleeing footsteps on the bloody battlefield was particularly piercing, echoing the heartbeat of their desperation.

In their panic, they left behind a trail of fear and flight on this blood-stained land.

The fierce slaughter finally neared its end slowly, the battlefield becoming a scene of carnage, like a painting of hell.

Bodies lay sprawled across the ground with diverse postures, some twisted into grotesque shapes as if still struggling in agony at the last moment of life; others were mangled, limbs scattered aside, making it hard to look directly at.

Yanhong blood flowed freely, pooling together, staining large areas of the ground, forming pools of varying depths.

Under the sunlight, these blood pools glimmered with a chilling dark red light, as if they were the eyes of demons observing the suffering of the world.

The air reeked heavily of a nearly suffocating stench of blood and death, that odor was pungent and nauseating, seemingly capable of corroding one's soul entirely. Although the disciples of Hengshan Sect ultimately achieved victory, they paid a heavy price.

Many were wounded, lying on the ground, groaning in pain, their groans low and sorrowful, as though they came from the depths of the soul, speaking of the endless suffering they had endured; some even lost their lives.

Their bodies lay silently there, bearing witness to the brutality of the battle, silently telling the world of the cruelty and ruthlessness of war, warning people of the preciousness of peace.

Liu Tingting stood on this blood-filled and sorrowful battlefield, quietly observing all of this. Her eyes were filled with complex emotions, her heart a mix of feelings as if a bottle of mixed spices had spilled.

She knew well that her purpose of coming this time was to win Shi Feiyang's favor, thereby fulfilling her covert plan.

However, during this thrilling battle, she felt an unprecedented shock.

Shi Feiyang's wisdom and bravery, his every decision and move on the battlefield, deeply imprinted on her mind.

She began to reassess her view of Shi Feiyang, and her previous perception based on jealousy and prejudice began to waver at this moment.

Her eyes revealed a hint of confusion and perplexity, as if she had lost her direction on the battlefield interwoven with blood and fire. She couldn't help but repeatedly ask herself whether her feelings towards Shi Feiyang were purely for utility, or if they had unknowingly changed?

She didn't know the answer, just vaguely felt that her destiny seemed to have been closely tied with Shi Feiyang's, like two intertwined threads, difficult to separate.

This feeling made her feel a strange warmth, yet also filled her with unease and hesitation. She struggled and wandered in this complex whirlpool of emotions, unsure of what path to take.

After cutting down the people of Divine Sword Manor on the mountains, Shi Feiyang found himself in an intense battle against the enemies of Yinma Stronghold and Wolf Fang Gang, amid flashes of swords and cries of slaughter.

He firmly believed that the people he'd carefully arranged would definitely protect Nun Chixia with all their might. His gaze fierce and sharp, revealing unwavering belief and confidence that could penetrate the smoke of war and foresee ultimate victory.

The Myanmar Saber in his hand gleamed with icy cold light under the sunlight, akin to the sharpest cold star in the night sky, announcing to the enemy his unshakeable resolve, that anyone attempting to hinder him would be mercilessly cut down by this blade.

The smoke of battle, like ethereal mist, slowly dissipated under the breeze, the battlefield falling into a dead silence, resembling a cursed empty city. The surrounding forests, ravaged by the fire of war, lay in ruins.

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