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It seemed that to honor the souls of fallen warriors, a heavy rain started to fall over Longzhou's Northern Territory, with dark clouds carrying thunder roaring as if to announce the death of Wang Han.
Walking silently through the pouring rain, Wang Chan's expression was as still as water, but beneath his calm facade lay anger, sorrow, and a destructive desire.
The thunder seemed to sense the emotions of the Saint Child of the South, growing louder and louder, with countless lightning snakes hissing through the clouds until they could no longer be contained, striking down to the ground and splitting the camphor tree in front of Wang Chan in half.
The Saint Child of the South stopped and raised his head, calling out, "Who is the mighty one controlling the clouds and the rain? Would you grace me with your presence?"
