The torrential rain washed over Pingyang Ridge, where the disciples of the Refinement Demon Sect, exhausted and injured, took refuge from the storm in their crude and tattered tents.
When the dull pounding of attack drums sounded once more from the mountain base, all the Demon Cultivators burst into angry, tired cursing.
"Damn Blood Lotus Sect! Won't they let us rest!"
"Just after a hundred died, they come again... Are these lunatics even afraid of death?"
"If it weren't for my mana being sapped, I alone could have wiped out these mortals!"
The irritable cursing continued, but the Demon Cultivators could only grumble as they stood up.
One by one, the injured cultivators of the Demon Sect rose to their feet, forced to meet the enemy.
And the towering figure leading them, with an injured left shoulder and draped in a tattered, blood-stained white robe, was just a lowly Inner Sect disciple.
