The battlefield slowly quieted.
Not with peace—but with exhaustion.
The sky was still stained with lingering, devastating Qi.
The ground was torn apart, cratered and soaked in blood, littered with shattered weapons and lifeless bodies.
The air itself felt heavy.
Survivors stood where they were, chests heaving, hands trembling as the adrenaline finally ebbed away.
Some leaned on their weapons. Others dropped to their knees, staring blankly at the carnage around them.
Only now—when the fighting truly paused—did everyone begin to count.
And the difference was impossible to ignore.
Across the Desolate Heaven Empire's forces, casualties were severe.
Many sects and clans had lost large portions of their elites during the Demonic Cultivators' sudden assault.
Defensive lines had collapsed, formations had been torn apart, and countless cultivators had fallen before reinforcements could arrive.
But among all of them—the Li Clan and the Zhao Clan stood out the most.
