Dragon Canon

The headless python that was the Great Warlock’s Avatar was still flailing in the air. It was just an instinctive response, though. Its destruction was inevitable.

Wei Yuan put away the dead branch and carelessly stuck it to the ground of the Great Expanse—but not the most fertile land where it was originally planted.

Finally receiving the order to stop, the scions halted their attacks and looked as white as a sheet. They were so tired they were just shy of sticking out their tongues and panting like dogs. Fortunately, as shoddy as their skills were, they had attacked long and hard enough to accumulate some damage.

Dark green blood were dripping everywhere on the battlefield. The land was originally fertile, but the Shamans’ fresh blood had turned it into an ashen wasteland.

Tens of thousands of Shaman corpses were scattered across the battlefield at the moment. It was a horrifying sight. A lot less human cultivators were standing on their feet compared to the start of the battle. On the flanks, Xiao Yu was returning with ninety or so cultivators. He himself was covered in wounds.

The pool inside Qingming had completely depleted. All of the nurturing energy it had accumulated from previous battles had been consumed just to maintain Life is a Flash for an incense stick.

It was at this moment rain started falling over the realm once more. Slowly, a single drop of blue water gathered at the bottom of the pool.

The domain had not yet converted the poison and green qi emanated by tens of thousands of Shamans into clear, harmless qi. At the moment, they were clinging to the ground surface in the shape of a thick, persistent fog.

Fortunately, the vast majority of cultivators in the realm were from the western regions and had prior experience dealing with such situations. They immediately pulled their unconscious comrades out of the fog and moved them to the Pure Realm of Humanity.