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About an hour ago, the Northern Upper Army had taken a devastating hit from the Poison Cloud Group Dance. Six hundred had died, reducing their number from twenty-six hundred to just two thousand. And even those who remained weren’t in ideal condition. Many were injured, and all were mentally and physically drained.
In the midst of this dire situation, seeing the enemy blocking their rear nearly drove them to despair. But just then, the best reinforcement they could have hoped for appeared, breathing life back into their fading morale.
Tang Hui’s tightly shut lips curved faintly into a rare, bright smile.
Duan Lihua recognized Zhou Xuchuan and urgently cried out his title, “Sword God!”
Everyone around him reacted when a familiar title of an Empyrean Overlord was brought up.
“Sword God?”
“T-that’s the Great Hero, Zhou Xuchuan!”
“The Great Hero is here!”
Zhou Xuchuan wasn’t an unforgettably handsome man by any means. If he stayed silent and under the radar during situations unrelated to combat, most people wouldn’t even recognize him.
As a matter of fact, one could say his looks were pleasant enough, like a handsome but ordinary young man found on the streets now and then. And because he concealed his realm, his presence didn’t draw much attention either.
However, that was no longer the case once he had been recognized, thanks to how widely known his looks and preferred attires were. Besides, the entire murim was paying attention to him, anyway, making it inevitable that nearly everyone knew what he looked like.
“W-what did you...
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