Gripping the flexible sword tightly in his hand, Beiting Huang raised his head and looked toward the direction of Phoenix City. It seemed as though countless souls were also, at that moment, looking back at him, watching him as he slew Ming with one strike, watching him as he looked toward them, the images that had always floated in Beiting Huang's mind, and now, were gradually fading away with the wind.
The destruction of Phoenix City had become a constant mental demon in his heart. Especially after seeing, through the memory crystal, the mothers who pushed their sons forward, the wives who left their vitality for their husbands, the repeated instructions, and the glimmer of hope in their eyes before death, Beiting Huang had many initial nights when he could not sleep at all.
