Desolate Calamity hovered in the air, gazing down at the scene below with an ugly expression.0

He had collapsed one side of the city wall, setting the stage for the Wang Clan’s forces to swoop in and claim the city. Instead, the situation had taken a bizarre turn. Rather than Wan Dongliu being slaughtered, he was gleefully leading his troops out for an ambush. The thought of how this would look—Wang Daozhong’s forces running headlong into a well-prepared strike—was almost too embarrassing to imagine.0

It almost made Desolate Calamity feel like a traitor sabotaging Wang Daozhong’s efforts.0

Yet he could not afford to disengage from his own personal fight to deal with Wan Dongliu’s army. Zhao Changhe stood before him, holding Dragon Bird in one hand and River of Stars in the other, his predatory gaze locked on Desolate Calamity. Any lapse in focus could lead to catastrophic consequences. He had to deal with Zhao Changhe first.0

Zhao Changhe patted his Snow-Treading Crow, signaling it to retreat. Both man and god wore grave expressions, fully aware that this battle was different from their last encounter. This time, there was no room to retreat.0

Previously, they both had fallback options. If Zhao Changhe lost, he could simply flee. The worst-case scenario was the Cui Clan pledging allegiance to the Wang Clan, a situation that could potentially be reversed later, perhaps even by killing Desolate Calamity in the future. Similarly, Desolate Calamity could retreat, get himself together,...0