The morning breeze, tinged with a metallic taste, brushed past as Chen Changsheng rose and stretched his body.

In the distance, the battle had long ceased, but the scent of blood lingered heavily in the air.

At that moment, Su Tian and the others, covered in blood, approached.

Out of the 1,080 disciples from Zifu, only 600 remained. The other 480 would forever rest on this land.