After a day and a night, the tide of undead retreated. There were no cheers on the city wall. Everyone sat quietly on the ground, closed their eyes, and rested with great difficulty.
The Dark Lord stood on the city wall, looking in the direction of Alec's retreat. His vision gradually blurred. He looked at the setting sun in the distance, and was actually in a daze.
The image of Rocky and the Great Magus that day was clearly imprinted in his mind. He closed his eyes and tried hard not to think about it, but he found that this memory was becoming clearer in his heart. He understood that the two princes would never be able to return to their original appearance. When they met again, they would either be enemies, or they would be dead.
"Your Majesty, the temperature is going to drop. You'd better hurry back. There are still a large group of people waiting for you."
