As time passed, the surface of the battlefield was nearly cleared of demonic beasts. What once seemed like an endless horde had now dwindled to scattered remnants.
Jiang Chen led a group of Purple Heaven Holy Land cultivators around the edge of the massive sinkhole, cutting down each new wave of emerging beasts with precision. His sword moved effortlessly with the rhythm of the battle, leaving no space for mistakes.
Among the group was Fang Yuan, who channeled his bottled-up frustrations into every strike of his spear. Though his greatest rival, Jiang Chen, fought nearby, Fang Yuan was bound by the situation and couldn't confront him directly. His bitterness simmered, unresolved.
Each demonic beast he killed calmed the chaos around him, but not the storm within. His anger didn't fade; instead, it grew with each kill. The more he fought, the more his resentment burned, like a fire fueled by bloodshed.
