Zhou Xuan walked toward the reflection of the Fierce Sun in the reservoir.
His colossal figure reached the reflection in just two or three steps, his hands plunging into the edges of the reflection.
Instantly, a burning sensation spread from Zhou Xuan's fingertips, surging throughout his body.
It felt as though a fire had been ignited inside him,
a fire that continued to grow, scorching him with unbearable pain.
In his ears, the clamor of the undead fighting against the reservoir rang incessantly,
their fierce collisions creating a din that rendered his heart chaotic, filled with anxiety and agitation, intensifying his suffering.
Nevertheless, if Mingjiang Prefecture's reservoir were to collapse now, no fewer than tens of thousands of citizens would perish in the flood forcibly unleashed by its destruction.
"Tens of thousands of people—just how many bodies is that? Piled up, they would form a mountain higher than any ordinary peak."
