Chương 1220: Guyue Qingji

The array formation was filled with the strong smell of blood, the residue of slaughter clinging to the bodies of these soldiers.

It settled on their armor, their skin, within their flesh, and their souls, gathering together and spreading in all directions, shaking the heavens and the earth.

The sky changed color, winds surged, and clouds billowed. At this moment, even the heavens were tinged with their presence, growing dimmer, with bolts of lightning and thunder suddenly appearing out of nowhere, slashing across the sky.

They overlapped with the bell chime and echoed in everyone's hearts.

In this army, the weakest cultivator was at the Nascent Soul realm, and they were elites of their realm. They had experienced countless battles while guarding the human race's border all year round.

Their lives were different from most of the cultivators in the Imperial City. Among them, many hadn't left the battlefield for decades.