Dance Of The Dragons

Xie Jianzhi met Liu Wenyuan outside the Eternal Spring Palace. He clasped the omega’s hand tightly, and together they stepped through the dimensional portal, along with a horde of demons who had come to invade the Golden Dragon Palace that night.

When Zhang Fengxi’s troops arrived, they only managed to catch small demons who did not have time to escape.

As they crossed the threshold, they were met with a sickening stench of blood and burnt flesh. Their eyes widened in horror as they took in the gruesome scene before them. The palace courtyard was a bloodbath. The bodies of innocent people lay scattered everywhere, their limbs twisted and their faces frozen in masks of terror.

Following Zhang Fengxi’s lead, the troops cautiously made their way through the carnage, their boots crunching on shattered glass and broken bones. They passed the bodies of young children, their lifeless eyes staring up at the sky. They saw the mutilated corpses of women and men, their flesh torn and their blood staining the ground.

"Check for survivors," Zhang Fengxi ordered his men.

"Yessir!"

Zhang Fengxi tucked away his blood-stained spear, its crimson tip still gleaming under the pale moonlight that streamed through the shattered windows. The once vibrant halls of the palace now echoed with an eerie silence, broken only by the creaking floorboards beneath his heavy boots. His footsteps echoed through the ghastly corridors, each sound a stark reminder of the carnage that had just unfolded.

A gust of ominous wind howled through the palace, carrying with it the chilling scent of death. The wind rattled the windows, their broken hinges groaning in protest, sending shivers down Zhang Fengxi’s spine. The once majestic palace, now a desolate ruin, seemed to weep for its fallen inhabitants.

The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and blood, a nauseating reminder of the violent massacre that had just taken place. Zhang Fengxi’s eyes darted around, as if looking for a certain individual among the fallen.