On the bloodstained battlefield, Ling Ling sighed tiredly, let go of the bright red broadsword in his hand, as if he had exhausted all his strength, and looked at the front lonely, "Hey, it's been three years, and it's still hard to escape death after all, Xi, this time it's not me looking for death, I have listened to your words and worked hard to live." A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, "I'm coming", accompanied by a bleak whisper. Ling Ling was buried by zombies in the sky, this god of war who stood for seven days still fell, and the blood-stained sky faintly rained, as if paying tribute to the dead god of war. Who hasn't noticed that between the gaps surrounded by zombies, a faint blue halo is revealed, and on the battlefield where the corpses are sideways and bloodstained, the strange beauty is slowly extinguished and lost.