The remnant sun in the sky above Chaohuang was like blood, staining the clouds on the horizon red.

In the city reflected by the remnant sun, the dead streets and alleys were littered with the broken corpses of soldiers and family members, and their blood-stained blades, their red blood overflowing the streets.

Along the corpses scattered in the streets and alleys, the noisy fighting in the distance became clearer and denser, and then the flow of people entangled and strangled everywhere could be seen. The golden armor with different scarves wrapped around their arms, the disciples who were not well-armed, they were stained with blood and red eyes, mixed with fighting, shouting and chopping, piercing one person but being cut down by another, killing people but losing their heads in an instant.

But all the people are closing in on the same place, and it is the same side that is retreating.

"The Song of the Mortal Kings" 31 The Lonely Shadow of Qingluan (I) is hitting in the hand, please wait a while,

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