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墨書 Inktalez
Looking up at the grand Oil Lamp Palace, hidden beneath layers of dark clouds, Wen Shiren, Tenglan, known as Zhongshang, and Hong Yulong stood silently by the wooden tower of the stronghold for a long time. Finally, it was Wen Shiren who broke the heavy silence.
In the end, perhaps his judgment had been flawed, leaving everyone trapped in this predicament. He hoped for a chance to make amends.
However, the topic brought up by Wen Shiren remained too weighty to shift away from.
There was no need to say more; each of them had made their own choices based on their judgments. The matter of the Primordial Dao was irrelevant to him.
Tenglan, known as Zhongshang, spoke firmly, providing a sense of reassurance. In such a dire situation, it was fortunate to have someone like Tenglan as a backbone among the group of cultivators who were all under a hundred years old, stabilizing the overall situation.
It had already been seven days. The food in the stronghold would last at most half a month for those Foundation Practitioners. Moreover, there were soldiers at the Qi Refinement Stage and those without cultivation. The spirit stones needed to maintain the Formation were running low; they could hold out for at most seven more days. Either the Formation would be broken or soldiers from Shandong would attack the mountain. Regardless of which scenario played out, they could only last seven days at most.
The arrival of Leng Gucun clearly did not bring any good news; if anything, it made matters worse.
Gu Ping never expected that Leng Gucun was also trapped there. After checking the reserves, he had come to the wooden tower of the stronghold alongside the Night Emperor.
Perhaps within seven days' time, the Night Emperor, having truly experienced the devastation of extermination, understood some aspects of war better than others. When discussing morale, he paused slightly; if things continued this way, morale would plummet to its lowest point in less than three days.
No one knew how the Night Emperor came to that conclusion, but everyone understood that the reason they could hold on was due to the presence of those talented cultivators who had never lost in their gambling fights during those few days.
Once that winning streak was broken, it would deal an unprecedented blow to morale, and despair would soon spread among the soldiers' hearts.
Yet there was no one left who could fight in front anymore. Even Jiang Anbo, who had recently reached Nascent Soul stage, was set to face off against someone named Fallen Red Dust in a Great War tomorrow. Bu Luo relied on the Light Path Classic Cultivation Method to barely gain an edge over Tian Zai's Ninth Underworld counter.
No cultivator below the Nascent Soul stage could stand against the Nine Nether Genius in the Nine Nether Palace. Those who lacked the Nascent Soul realm would only be walking to their deaths. Now, all that everyone could do was hope that there were enough people left to fight.
Would there be reinforcements?
The crowd exchanged glances, though no one dared to voice the thought aloud. Yet, deep down, Minghong and Mistake shared the same concern; after all, stubbornly holding their ground had led to defeat in the past.
There would be help. He believed he would come; Dong Lai was the one who could create miracles.
Tan Siyuan, no longer a little girl, spoke with a tone of utmost certainty that stirred a flicker of understanding in everyone’s hearts.
Regardless of whether there were reinforcements or not, they were already trapped in this desolate mountain with no way out—only a battle remained.
As the eldest and most composed among them, Tenglan, known as Zhongshang, surveyed each person before making a resolute decision.
Gather everyone; tomorrow morning, we fight.
Three days prior, after discussing strategies, Gu Ping, Liu Lao Jiu, and Ling Chanzi were in Sky's End Tower, trying hard to calm their restless emotions.
Ying Zhan had already returned to mobilize the troops, while Pei Shigui had gone back to Scattered Cultivator City to retrieve something and should be back soon.
At that moment, the three were waiting for a signal—either Ying Zhan igniting the flames of war or Pei Shigui's return. For them, just one of those would suffice.
Thud thud thud
A series of hurried footsteps approached from Lou Dong. Hong Ling came striding in with an anxious pace.
It has been confirmed that there will be no practitioners of Fusion appearing on the battlefield, and Celestial Being and Earth Immortal will not easily intervene unless it concerns Sect or Dao Tradition.
Thank heavens, there is finally some news.
Bu Luo made Hong Ling feel a bit uneasy; Gu Ping Ci had not brought Ye You along, nor had they seen the powerful Pure World Fox.
Is there a lack of confidence?
I don't deny it. Is there another precaution?
Do we need to inform anyone? Hong Ling asked tentatively.
No need. The outcome relies on those present in the desolate mountains; the three of them are merely embellishing what Bu Luo has already established.
Gu Ping Ci was still somewhat annoyed. If only he had been in the Northern Region at that time, he would never have agreed to Wen Shiren's seemingly beautiful yet utterly foolish decision.
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