That night’s battle of demon gods, for the common folk, was a spectacle of sheer visual horror. It had been like the sudden onset of the apocalypse, only to dissipate just as abruptly.0

Most people at the time felt no real danger, only a chilling dread brought on by the terrifying visuals. Even when blades were drawn out from their scabbard, only those in Miaojiang were truly pushed to the brink, with some even having their blades to their own throats. Elsewhere, people merely found their weapons refusing to obey for a fleeting moment. According to official records, only a few hundred Miaojiang residents perished that night, their deaths caused by exploding gu insects. Not a single soul outside of Miaojiang suffered even a scratch.0

There was no sense of imminent peril, no opportunity to revere a hero for turning the tide. There was nothing that would give birth to legend or myth.0

Only those who truly understood the stakes would grasp the weight of what transpired. True domination lies in achieving victory without fanfare. When someone can arrange every detail so meticulously that, even at the precipice of catastrophe, the world remains unaware of its own salvation, such a triumph is far more meaningful...0