The red horizon bled into the dark valleys as the main stampede of the western front rolled forward. It was a tide ten times larger than the vanguard, a dense mass of iron-clad wolves, rock-beasts, and flying shadow eagles that stretched back into the distant mist. Below the basalt fortress, the ground shook in a continuous rumble.
Along the three-mile wall, the battle was heavy. The six Golden Core combat elders stood at their positions, directing the attacks. Below them, senior disciples led their groups. Wei Wuji stood on a defense tower, his heavy steel sword moving in wide, sweeping arcs that released waves of blue sword Qi to slice through packs of wolves.
Each strike rang with a sharp, heavy hum, sending shards of crushed stone and dark blood flying into the air. Beside him, several outer disciples gasped for breath, their foreheads covered in sweat as they frantically channeled their Qi into their own weapons to hold the line.
