In the Zhai Yue Nation's royal palace, an uneasy atmosphere enveloped the entire room.
Emperor Zhao Hongyao frowned as he flipped through the memorial in his hand. The more he read, the more frightened he became, and his hands couldn't help but tremble.
After a long time, he put down the memorial and looked at Feng Wu, the National General.
"The ghosts in Peng City actually caused such a big commotion?"
Feng Wu shook his head and sighed. "That's right! I've already sent three thousand elites in succession, but none of them survived."
"They are all at the Mystic Realm. I would never have thought… Sigh!"
"Three thousand Mystic Realm cultivators!" Zhao Hongyao's eyes revealed a hint of horror.
In the entire Zhai Yue Nation, the number of Mystic Realm soldiers was only slightly more than twenty thousand.
Just Peng City alone made their country lose so many elites in one night. It was really unimaginable!
