Qin Ming looked at the Yellow Silk Canopy. What had happened to the trust between man and treasure?
Originally, it had borne the tangible imprints of dharma chains and Dao chains from Yujing, intricate and profound. Now, almost all of them were gone.
It was like a heavily tattooed woman who had suddenly washed away all her makeup, turning delicate, elegant, and refined.
What the Yellow Silk Canopy had severed were not the law imprints of its own making, but external shackles.
Qin Ming felt his feelings had been swindled; all his worry on its behalf had been completely wasted.
He sighed. "True feelings tossed into running water. What's the point of keeping this Dao seed from the parasitic civilization around? Better to just grind him to dust and feed him to the dogs, or return him to the great world."
As he spoke, he began pummeling Dao Seed No. 3. Clang, clang—two kicks and three slaps sent spiritual blood splattering everywhere.
The Dao seed from the parasitic civilization desperately wanted to ask what any of this had to do with him. Over a petty squabble between a man and his umbrella, they were actually going to use him as a blood sacrifice!
The Yellow Silk Canopy hastily intervened. "Stop!"
Qin Ming said, "I treated you with absolute sincerity, yet you betrayed my devotion, turning our heart-to-heart bond into false pretense."
"..."
The canopy sighed wistfully. "Have you forgotten how those dharma chains on me came to be in the first place? Back then, you held me out in front of you as a shield, and only then did I get them."
Thinking back, after Qin Ming fought on the sword duel platform in the sky, he had taken a wrong turn while going to claim his reward and ran into the Dao chains. In the end... Little Yellow had shouldered the entire burden alone.
Furthermore, above the nine heavens, when the old mountain strongholds sealed the sky, they had conducted an exhaustive investigation across the realm to ferret out Taiyi and the Realm Faction, dispatching people armed with dharma chains to trace them.
In that clash, the Yellow Silk Canopy earned yet another "medal," bearing the entire brunt by itself.
Qin Ming retorted, "Weren't we still strangers back then? As a demonic treasure billowing black smog and glowing with bloodlight, what was wrong with engraving a few dharma chains to temper your temperament?"
If it truly came down to dredging up old scores, he was indeed somewhat in the wrong, so he decisively changed the subject.
Saying so, he kicked Dao Seed No. 3 once more and slapped him twice.
Even pinned there pierced by golden threads and drenched in blood, this Dao seed of the parasitic civilization had still maintained an air of transcendence and calm dignity. But now, fury overtook him. If they wanted to kill him, fine, but why take their petty frustrations out on him?
The Yellow Silk Canopy said, "I blocked the Dao chains for you and detonated my grandmaster foundations. Setting aside the actual facts of the matter, perhaps I really was in the wrong."
At those words, Qin Ming had no reply. He truly felt guilty.
Even so, he couldn't shake the feeling that the canopy's "tea craft" was growing sharper by the day.
Qin Ming said, "Fine, Little Tea, let's not bring this up again."
Regardless of whether the Yellow Silk Canopy was growing ever more sentient and glib, its bloody struggle against his foes was undeniable, and that was enough.
In fact, if he thought about it carefully, its vital energy really had suffered severe damage; its jesting was merely so the atmosphere wouldn't be too heavy.
In this dense forest, the experts from the Celestial Clan, the Abyss civilization, and the Totem camp desperately wanted to shout: Have you two had enough?!
This man and this umbrella were acting as if nobody else existed, paying them no heed whatsoever. It was outrageously arrogant!
Taking advantage of the moment, fueled by resentment and indignation, they made their move—and decisively bolted.
If they didn't flee now, when would they?
Unfortunately, they would not get their wish.
Qin Ming and the Yellow Silk Canopy both dashed forward, cutting off their retreat.
Having washed away its "tattoos" and regained a clean, elegant look, the Sovereign Canopy dragged its weakened frame forward and unleashed the final dharma chain that did not belong to it, crashing head-on into the opponents.
Qin Ming helped box the enemies in, letting none escape, yet deliberately allowed them to attack Little Yellow.
He couldn't even resist throwing two heavy punches at the Yellow Silk Canopy himself, striking it until the graceful figure on the canopy's surface rolled her eyes at him in exasperation.
The three pursuing grandmasters were advanced in years and had only barely scraped into the early fifth realm; to Qin Ming, they posed no real threat.
Among them, the Abyss steed was the strongest. Its fist light blazed, illuminating the night sky as it fought with reckless abandon, contributing greatly to grinding away the last dim dharma chain for the Yellow Silk Canopy.
Qin Ming remarked, "If we hadn't lost the Earth Ox, we'd have the whole team of oxen and horses now."
The battle drew to a swift close. The three grandmasters along with six late fourth-realm experts were all claimed by the Yellow Silk Canopy.
A chill gripped Dao Seed No. 3's heart. Seeing this outcome, he knew his own fate was going to be grim.
Sure enough, the man covered entirely in golden threads—resembling a giant golden zongzi dumpling—flashed him a toothy grin and snatched him over.
Qin Ming asked with an amiable smile, "Tell me, where have you seen this technique of mine before?"
"I don't know!" Dao Seed No. 3 refused to cooperate.
Qin Ming was patient. He steered the conversation, conversing tirelessly while maintaining a steady resonance with him.
Dao Seed No. 3 briefly suspected the man was a mentally unstable chatterbox. He disdained speaking, but the man held him up and rambled endlessly, completely unhinged.
Qin Ming guided him skillfully. He did not need the Dao seed to speak secrets aloud; all that mattered was that thoughts stirred in his mind and stirred up emotional ripples. In the end, he pieced together the general situation.
Long ago, an unmatched supreme expert of the parasitic civilization had ventured out and targeted a rogue cultivator, only to return in disastrous defeat, dying shortly after returning to the brood nest.
Reportedly, that rogue cultivator had mastered this exact technique: "At first, the two were evenly matched, until later, when both of their bodies were shattered. The rogue cultivator was suddenly covered in golden threads, stitching and mending himself before unleashing a lethal counterstrike..."
Qin Ming pondered. Did this technique have a passive trigger? Yet he found he could deploy it normally right now.
"Once my rebirth is completely finished and my injuries fully heal, I'll test it again."
Qin Ming found it surprising that the opponent faced by the parasitic civilization's supreme expert had been a mere rogue cultivator. Moreover, that was an event from thousands of years ago. The Night Mist World was vast beyond measure; there was no telling where that murky history had unfolded.
Before long, Qin Ming carried Dao Seed No. 3 back to Yinhan Gorge, set him down, and brewed a cup of tea.
"Oh, right, I forgot you're a spirit body. Never mind then, you can just watch me drink."
Dao Seed No. 3 looked at his hypocritical act and said nothing.
Qin Ming said with a genial expression, "Little Three, you could say we've gotten to know each other through battle. Why not sit down and chat?"
Transfixed by golden threads and stained with spiritual blood, Dao Seed No. 3 kept his mouth tightly shut.
Qin Ming said, "Even a supreme camp will eventually decline if it rests on its laurels and closes itself off. If we exchange insights, perhaps we can spark brilliant scripture flares between us."
Dao Seed No. 3 instantly knew what he was after: freeloading his scriptures. He kept his haughty, aloof silence throughout. Did this man really think he could interrogate profound arts out of him? Delusional.
"I noticed that you once broke down your consciousness into a vast swarm of light particles, like emerging constellations, or luminous dandelion seeds drifting in the wind..."
Dao Seed No. 3 scoffed with mockery. What was this fellow thinking? Right off the bat, he wanted to coax out the supreme arts of their supreme civilization.
Qin Ming spoke patiently, but his counterpart had terrible manners. Not only did he refuse to sit and discuss the Dao, he put on airs and wouldn't utter a single syllable.
He spoke placidly, "If you don't wish to discuss the Dao, I happen to be well-versed in hand-to-hand combat. Shall we spar again?"
Soon, killing intent boiled within Dao Seed No. 3. From an honored guest he was relegated to a punching bag, taking thirty-nine ferocious slaps in a single breath.
Yet he was completely helpless, unable to move, unable even to self-detonate.
"I'm also quite interested in that art of yours that releases spiritual streamers to construct a cage of consciousness. Why don't we exchange notes on that?"
Dao Seed No. 3 was consumed with fury. He felt this opponent was providing an all-around masterclass in villainy—at the very least, far more villainous than he was! For instance, Qin Ming found him a flesh Dao field—a piglet—stuffed him into it, roasted the suckling pig on the spot, and even critiqued the meal, remarking that the meat carried a soul-deep seasoning. Afterward, Qin Ming fed the pork to a dog.
"You humiliate me again and again! Do you have no fear of bearing immense karmic retribution in the future?!" Dao Seed No. 3 snapped completely.
As a Dao seed of the parasitic civilization, though his decayed "past" had been purified and he had become a new individual, he knew he possessed a deeper origin connected to a peerless supreme being. He said grimly, "My identity is exalted beyond words! Even if I die today, it matters not—in days to come, a great reckoning will fall upon you!"
Unfazed by the threat, Qin Ming said, "Exalted beyond words? Or kneeling beyond words? I don't buy it. I'll make you kneel and call me father!"
Following that, Dao Seed No. 3 was driven beside himself with rage. A villain steeped in blood who casually wiped out other Dao fields genuinely felt the man before him was the greater villain. His emotions surged violently, his form shattering countless times, subjected to grueling spiritual torment.
"From the hands of a loving father comes the thread, for the coat upon a wandering son's back..."
Qin Ming guided dense golden needles through him, fearful that unable to bear the provocation, he might unleash some unknown secret art and blow himself up on the spot. Dao Seed No. 3 felt a heavy suffocating knot in his chest, stifled fury surging like a river; he felt as though he were going to burst.
Yet Qin Ming showed no joy. In this process, by steering the dialogue and resonating with him, he had obtained some secret arts, but the core scripture remained out of reach.
"There are restrictions!"
If he forcibly probed deeper, this Dao seed would completely detonate and burn to ash. The parasitic civilization protected its supreme true scriptures thoroughly, refusing to allow any outsider to peer into their mysteries. Arts like parasitism or dividing into countless dandelion-like seeds fell squarely within taboo territory.
Qin Ming observed several extraordinary dharma aspects—for instance, an angry-eyed Vajra brandishing a vajra pestle, or a banished immortal descending to earth to slash with a sword. He frowned. These were not the foundational arts of the parasitic civilization; they were the techniques of civilizations they had destroyed. Furthermore, Dao Seed No. 3 hadn't cultivated the foundational scriptures corresponding to those arts, but merely drove these wondrous arts with the true scripture of the parasitic civilization.
"Unlearned and ignorant! You had the chance to cultivate them, and you actually gave it up?" Unable to bear it any longer, Qin Ming slapped him upside the head.
Dao Seed No. 3 snapped back furiously, "What the hell does that have to do with you?!"
"You made me miss out on true scriptures! How are you going to make up for it?" Qin Ming slapped him several more times with loud smacks, dispersing his form completely and alarming the Yellow Silk Canopy.
"Don't beat him out of existence!" Little Yellow shouted.
Qin Ming was forced to stitch and mend the Dao seed back together to prevent truly obliterating him.
Resigned to death, Dao Seed No. 3 felt death would be a sweet release. "You monster! You villain! Just kill me!"
"I act out of compassion and have no desire to see you perish. I must deliver you toward goodness so you can atone in the mortal realm." Qin Ming continued fleecing him, leading him through mental gymnastics to keep his emotions churning like stormy waves.
"You are the greatest evil of all! What right do you have to deliver anyone?!" Initially, Dao Seed No. 3 had intended to remain silent and ignore him entirely, but by now he had broken his vow completely.
Afterward, Qin Ming fleeced out the Ascension Seal, the Immortal-Startling Finger, and other remarkable supreme arts—techniques rigorously vetted by the parasitic civilization and handed down through time. Unfortunately, there were still no corresponding foundational scriptures for them. Qin Ming mused that he might be able to drive them with Chaos force instead. After all, Dao Seed No. 3 had used his race's true scripture to wield them. Qin Ming felt as if he had lost a fortune; those true scriptures had vanished down the river of history, yet this parasitic Dao seed had clearly had the opportunity to comprehend and practice them. Indignant, he scolded, "You uncultured, empty-headed lowlife! Good-for-nothing, mediocre, lazy, completely useless—a true gluttonous waste of space!"
Dao Seed No. 3's anger and resentment boiled. It was bad enough being blown apart multiple times, but he had to endure this man's verbal mudslinging and slanderous labels on top of it. What kind of degenerate was this? He had never encountered such an opponent.
In the end, after wearing him down thoroughly, Qin Ming tossed him over to the Yellow Silk Canopy.
"Little Tea, he's yours."
The alluring figure on the canopy rolled her eyes, then sent a voice transmission: "Don't forget what I excel at. Imprisoning him inside the canopy as foundation reserve means that once I return to my rightful heights in the future, I might well be able to analyze him and obtain the foundational scripture of this supreme civilization."
Qin Ming nodded. Though its radiance was covered in dust, it truly had once been a supreme treasure.
Beneath the night sky in Yinhan Gorge, the primeval forest stretched boundlessly. Qin Ming lay on the ground, quietly waiting for his metamorphosis to complete. His injuries had healed by seventy to eighty percent. He was wound in golden threads and draped in jade light, exuding a fresh, vigorous vitality, as though an aura of longevity permeated the air. Even the Yellow Silk Canopy couldn't resist drawing closer.
Relaxing completely and contemplating the changes within him, his thoughts drifted as he began to review today's bloody life-and-death struggle.
He believed this Dao child of the parasitic civilization had spent too long high above the clouds and had initially put on too many airs. If he had unleashed his ultimate methods with full force right from the start, Qin Ming would have been killed even with three lives. *Though put that way, it might be somewhat unfair—he couldn't fight unreservedly earlier because he wanted a flesh Dao field,* he mused. Qin Ming reminded himself never to make such a mistake in the future. *Once core saints of the supreme camps enter the fifth realm, they will be exceedingly dangerous. I must proceed with caution.*
Qin Ming reconstructed the battle. His desperate gambit of detonating his supreme purple golden core to blow his opponent apart and weaken his state had been an essential step to winning a chance at survival. Yet the most critical turning point was when Dao Seed No. 3 invaded his physical body, where the three dormant wondrous lights detonated with a roar, blasting the adversary into fragments. *I seized that opportunity to return from spirit wandering, bringing my physical body into the fight as well. With three versions of myself striking him together, I shattered his spiritual fragments again and again, grinding his condition down to its lowest ebb.* Otherwise, even having broken through to the Mind Lamp eighth heaven, Qin Ming might not have been able to subdue him. This Dao seed of the parasitic civilization was truly terrifying. Looking back on it, Qin Ming had no desire to undergo it a second time.
"Today my physical body shattered into dozens of pieces. Well, no matter—this is the perfect chance to use the Destiny-Altering Scripture to correct my circulation pathways and make subtle adjustments."
Soon, he fell into a unique meditative state. It looked like an immortal chrysalis spinning a cocoon, or light of ascension weaving a garment that enveloped him. Golden mist glowed resplendently, rain of light rose, and a pure fragrance along with rich vitality seeped into the surrounding plants. Nearby, the grass turned a vibrant, luminous emerald, and thorns trailed streaks of light, seemingly imbued with faint wisps of spirituality.
No one knew how long passed before Qin Ming awoke and opened his eyes. The golden threads and jade light on his body dispersed with the breeze like thin mist. Sitting up, he found his flesh translucent and crystalline. All the horrifying wounds had vanished without a trace, leaving no scars; if anything, his skin was more lustrous and clear than before. As for his shattered internal organs, broken bones, and torn sinews, they had long since healed, surpassing their former state, glistening with radiance, and growing even sturdier.
"Such nirvana is beyond words!" Feeling the changes within, Qin Ming noted that the increase in strength was secondary—what truly stood out was the sense that his lifespan had expanded significantly.
Normally, even Heavenly Gods and Heavenly Immortals who exhausted all means could only live for a little over two thousand years. None could cross that boundary; all ultimately drifted toward decay and extinction. Even beings as formidable as the Lord of Yujing or the supreme master of the parasitic civilization would eventually die of old age. *If I undergo at least one rebirth in every major realm to extend my lifespan, could I live for over three thousand years in the end? Or even four to five thousand?* Qin Ming was estimating his Heavenly Immortal lifespan.
The Yellow Silk Canopy interrupted his reverie. "You're dreaming. Everything with a spirit must die, and the lifespans of each realm are fixed."
Even an artifact spirit like itself could not escape, for it too was a "spirit."
Qin Ming smiled without arguing. He intended to let actions speak, walking this mortal world for thousands of years.
When his strength grew great enough, he would certainly venture into the deepest depths of the Night Mist World to see what it was truly like. After all, even the glowing giant footprint, the Qilin toe, and the like had merely fled from deeper regions; clearly, that area alone held countless secrets. As for Yujing, the Celestial Clan, the parasitic civilization, and their peers, the lands they inhabited were only considered the outer regions of the Night Mist World, and the supreme Dao fields were nothing more than isolated islands in the shallows of the Night Mist Sea. What defined an outer region, and what defined the depths of the Night Mist World? Naturally, danger was the dividing line. The further inward one went, the more mysterious, unfathomable, and full of the unknown it became.
Qin Ming asked, "Little Yellow, in your prime, during your most powerful years, did you ever enter the depths of the Night Mist World?"
"I don't remember," the Yellow Silk Canopy replied, a hazy figure surfacing on the canopy's fabric, as though also gazing into the distance. In truth, it had inherited fragments of an older era and seen vague images: in its mightiest age, it had once taken human form. It seemed to have explored the distant unknown, bleeding in the depths of the Night Mist World and returning in defeat. It was like a dream, or perhaps tangled, disordered thoughts that might not be real. In truth, if a supreme treasure assumed human form, it was an earth-shattering event of supreme magnitude. Even so, it had still gathered dust in the end.
Qin Ming yearned forward. "There is still plenty of time in the future. As we grow stronger, we can go see other lands—the White Tiger, the Dream Bug, the God Clan, the magic system... Supreme camps shining together, diverse domain civilizations standing side by side. I truly want to take in all those sights. When the time comes, we can also visit your homeland, the cultivation civilization. And when I soar into the heavens, I will delve into the deepest reaches of the Night Mist World to explore it thoroughly."
The Yellow Silk Canopy listened quietly without speaking.
Before long, Qin Ming stopped speaking. Gazing into the heavy night, lost in thought, he felt he should keep his feet on the ground. A Heavenly Immortal was still too far away. Moreover, even if any remnants survived, they had long since decayed, seemingly degraded to the peak of the Earth Immortal realm.
His body glowed, releasing dense golden strands, though not quite as smoothly as before. "It works!" Qin Ming nodded. For a trump card, being usable was enough. He muttered to himself, "Mmm, I feel like my condition after breaking through and undergoing rebirth is bursting with power. I really want to fight another round and find someone to test my arts on."
The Yellow Silk Canopy spoke dryly, "I believe there's still Dao Seed No. 1, whose source split off from an even more formidable entity. Why don't you give him a try?"
"Never mind, I'm tired." Qin Ming shook his head. Then he added, "Better leave it for the future!"
The situation in this land was complicated right now. The supreme blood duel might not even be over, and the parasitic civilization lay dormant in the Great Abyss. Qin Ming had no intention of running around recklessly; he needed to stay grounded, as he couldn't figure out the full picture yet.
Using his standard-issue armor, he contacted acquaintances nearby, tactfully warning them not to wander about, as the crimson forest opposite them was exceedingly dangerous.
Pei Shuyan replied, "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. Slaying Through the Thirty-Six Heavens with a Single Sword patrols this area, so it's quite safe."
Yao Ruoxian, Fourth Princess of Dayu, said, "All is quiet on my end. Would you like to come over for tea?"
An old grandmaster of the Newborn path said, "Though only a few hours have passed, I find myself craving grandmaster-grade Earth Ox beef again. Little Qin, want to come over for some wine?"
From farther away, someone contacted Qin Ming through a dharma conch. "Brother Ming, I heard a fortune relic appeared in the crimson forest."
Qin Ming also carried an ordinary dharma conch on him. Hearing Bai Meng's message, he immediately warned him never to get involved.
Bai Meng said, "Relax, I definitely won't go barging in. I heard a cocky powerhouse from our side charged over all alone, only to run into an extraordinary saint and almost get beaten to death."
Qin Ming grew suspicious. "Where did you hear that? Who charged over?"
"It came from the highest-level warning, though no names were mentioned. Word has it the clash was horrific—the earth ripped open, forests vanished, rocky mountains crumbled, and they fought all the way underground..."
The more Qin Ming listened, the weirder it sounded. Had the Golden Board used him as a cautionary tale?!
Bai Meng continued, "That guy was genuinely fierce. Even though he was nearly beaten to death, he apparently turned the tables, killed his opponent, and made it back safely. Brother Ming, who do you think it is? That fellow seems crazy good at fighting, but also crazy good at courting death."
Qin Ming felt an urge to cross over just to teach this loose-lipped punk a lesson. He felt thoroughly mocked. Could they have guessed it was him?
In the distance, Tang Yushang took over the conch and asked, "Could it be you?"
Bai Meng suddenly stammered, "Ah... it couldn't... be Brother Ming, right?"
Afterward, Qin Ming spoke with Meng Xinghai. He was relatively at ease about Meng Xinghai, who was stationed in the deep rear. "Little Qin, they say the crimson forest is extraordinarily perilous. A powerhouse from our side crossed the border over there and was nearly beaten to death..."
Qin Ming quietly hung up. Had he really become the prime cautionary tale?
A moment later, Great Grandmaster Yu Gensheng transmitted a message: "Little Qin, the person in the crimson forest definitely wasn't you, right? You've always been steady, so I have great confidence in you."
Qin Ming didn't want to talk to anyone anymore!
Deep in the crimson forest, Daoist Peng emerged from the "fortune relic" soaked in blood, his steps slightly unsteady. Only after meditating and regulating his breathing for a moment did he recover.
"Brother Peng, what happened to you? Why are you in such a state?" A prime-aged grandmaster from the Celestial Clan spotted him and rushed forward.
Clad in a black-and-white Daoist robe, Daoist Peng wiped the blood from his face. His eyes were deep and his tone calm as he said, "I inexplicably ended up in a crimson trial. A mysterious creature tried to seize my physical body, and it took a tremendous effort to kill it."
Beside him, the prime grandmaster was shocked. "What? So dangerous that even you were wounded?"
Daoist Peng nodded. "Yes. It was indeed a very formidable creature that sought to parasitize my body. Deserved to be executed!"
The prime grandmaster grew uneasy. "This... this is too dangerous. Brother Peng, for those of us who have just set foot in this territory, could we be targeted as well? Are we in danger of being parasitized?"
Daoist Peng glanced at him and said, "You? Rest easy, you should be fine."
Hearing this, the prime grandmaster let out a sigh of relief.
Daoist Peng added, "You're not qualified. You can't even enter that crimson trial ground."
"..."
The prime grandmaster was left speechless. He was a grandmaster in the prime of his life, his vitality flourishing, yet he had been so casually looked down upon. Why was this world's pecking order everywhere you looked?
Daoist Peng shook his head. "Unless you're a saint, you probably can't get in. And even if you qualified, I wouldn't recommend taking the risk. In that place, victory and defeat are decided, but so are life and death. Risking it all for a true scripture simply isn't worth it." Saying so, he looked down at the scroll of wondrous arts in his hand.
The next day, Qin Ming's vitality and spirit surged outward like materialized flames of light, as if about to transform into a tangible great dragon soaring into the sky to pierce through the pitch-black cloud cover.
Although his condition was remarkably pristine, he had no intention of wandering out. He stayed properly put in Yinhan Gorge; after all, he had already become a cautionary tale.
Suddenly, he sensed something amiss. A massive flock of birds swept across the night sky, flying from the direction of the crimson forest.
Qin Ming's expression shifted drastically, and he immediately vaulted into the air.
At the same time, Pei Shuyan transmitted a voice message through the standard armor: "Qin Ming, can you contact... A Single Sword? An enemy attack! A horde of grandmasters is charging over—Daoist Butterfly, the five-colored strange beast, and the others have all appeared!"
His voice was hurried and tense: "A grandmaster of the Immortal Path... blew up! All the grandmasters along the border have joined the battle! I don't know if I can survive this!"
"Qin Ming... save me!" Yao Ruoxian, Fourth Princess of Dayu, called for help. She had once helped Qin Ming search for a seclusion site and watched him enter the Night Ruins; knowing his true realm was higher than rumors claimed, she had an inkling of his true capability.
"A grandmaster of the Newborn path... has fallen in battle! Hurry, contact A Single Sword!" The transmissions through the standard armors were chaotic, with many people using them at once.
Clad in golden armor, Qin Ming detonated the night mist, rode the astral winds, and crossed the firmament, charging toward the battlefront.
He roared, "The Number One Grandmaster Under Heaven is here! Invaders, come meet your deaths!" His spiritual sound waves rolled like thunderclaps, echoing across the night sky as he sought to draw the enemy horde toward himself.
Chapter 553