As the Martial Practitioners gathered their spoils, they couldn't help but recall the harrowing scenes of the battle, their hearts filled with complex emotions. They understood deeply that this was a victory bought with blood and life; every trophy bore the weight of their companions' sacrifices.
In a dimly lit, somber corner, several practitioners in close-fitting combat gear huddled together. Some crouched, others stood, but each face bore a grave expression as they whispered about the heart-stopping battle that had just concluded.
"Sigh, that battle was nothing short of a nightmare! The carnage was unbearable. We suffered heavy losses, and so many brothers have left us forever..." The young practitioner hung his head, his voice low and hoarse, as if every word deepened the pain in his heart. As he spoke, he slowly looked up, his once clear and bright eyes now bloodshot, faintly shimmering with tears.
Chapter 947