Lin Tianming's face was pale, and his body wracked with intense pain, causing him to grit his teeth and grimace involuntarily.
After getting somewhat accustomed to the pain, he used the Tiangang Sword to help himself stand up, casting a long shadow under the slanting rays of the setting sun as his straight figure rose.
At the same time, a light breeze rustled his billowing robe as his sharp eyes swept the entire area.
Looking around, the battlefield was also a complete mess. The flat earth was pitted and uneven, and the bodies of numerous cultivators littered the ground, with blood staining large patches of land red.
Especially since many of the cultivators' bodies were incomplete, with various unrecognizable parts and limbs blurred with flesh and blood, creating a striking sight at a glance.
Just this bloody and pitiful scene was enough to make one feel nauseous on sight.