At the foot of Mount Buzhou, the sky, already dim as if drenched in ink, was pressed down by layers of rolling, heavy clouds until it felt as though one could touch them by simply standing on tiptoes. A gale roared like a beast unleashed, its sound sharp and harrowing, like the desperate wails of countless wandering souls in the dark, or the snarling of ancient demons. The wind carried the sickening stench of blood from the battlefield, a thick, suffocating fog that permeated every inch of space and plunged the entire world into an atmosphere of oppressive terror.
The earth trembled violently, as if caught in a massive earthquake under the continuous shockwaves of the battle. Huge, jagged cracks—like hideous scars upon the land—spread outward at an alarming speed. These fissures seemed alive, constantly expanding and extending, as if they sought to tear the world asunder. From within them, scorching magma erupted like volcanic vents, its devastating heat instantly turning the surrounding earth into scorched soil.
Seeing the heavy casualties of the Wu Clan and watching the Great Wizards covered in blood-stained armor, the fury within the Eleven Ancestral Wus erupted like a long-dormant volcano. Dijiang, enduring the searing, fiery pain in his arms, looked to the sky and let out a roar that seemed to contain infinite power, as if to pierce the oppressive heavens: "Xingtian, deploy the Twelve Capital Gods and Demons Formation!" His eyes burned with a fierce and desperate flame…
Chapter 144