Chapter 43: A Desperate Struggle

With that, Chen Mu turned to face the capital of the Southern Barbarians, raised his arm, and shouted loudly,
“With me, invincibility!”
The soldiers responded in unison.
“With me, invincibility!”
“With me, invincibility!”
“With me, invincibility!”
Chen...

Wang Jin smiled quietly to himself. Did they intend to use him as a wedge to disrupt the balance among the five bases, including the new Ludong base? The idea was clever, but whether he would prove to be a painful nail or a lethal dagger, Mu Yi, that old fox, probably had not figured it out yet.

“I think we should have a proper talk with him again,” said his most trusted general, Nadir.

Morale, after all, is what can be relied upon; in war, it often outweighs numbers in determining victory or defeat. Yet, for some reason, Li Shimin felt a nagging unease in his heart.

“All right, enough chatter. Sit down and eat!” the old man shouted. Chu Fengmei fell silent at once, glared at Chu Zijie, then took her seat.

Watching the fleeing forces of the Temple of War, Ling Mu merely sneered and didn’t bother to pursue—they had already satisfied their thirst for blood.

As for Zhang Ping, his compulsory task was clear: until he became number one in the world, Li Xunhuan absolutely must not die. So anyone seeking Li Xunhuan’s death was, in effect, making life difficult for Zhang Ping.

The Lord of the Sea of Blood also knew that if he missed this chance, once the Celestial Sovereign escaped back into the cosmos, he would never again be able to obtain the Primal Fire Seed and the Chaos Pearl from him.

“What’s this supposed to mean? Those at the top can’t take the pressure and want to compromise?” Ye Luoxiao’s expression did not change, but the cold gleam flashing in her eyes betrayed her foul mood.

This courtyard was elegant and refined; even the flowers and plants within were exceptional treasures, perfect for refining pills.

The stares from those elite trainees made his skin crawl, but he simply couldn’t fathom why so many untouchable masters had gathered here. Could it be...?

“A place for corpse refinement? So we haven’t fully left yet—let’s hurry up and go,” Lin Yu urged.

Everyone knew Han Gang was considered useless, and Su Chen’s cultivation was not high. Yet, neither Chen Ran nor Mei Xinyan’s personal guidance had managed to defeat the so-called useless Han Gang.

“You really are my good, good, GOOD friends.” I stressed the words, making it clear I was furious, and the consequences would be serious.

“No way, Brother Fu Ning is so generous to me! I’ve only just returned and he’s already buying me drinks?” Chen Guifeng eyed the bottle in her hand, suspicion rising within her.

The light of faith sparked in Lin Kexin’s eyes. Seeing Wang Yan panic and teeter on the edge of death’s abyss, Lin Kexin shook her desperately, urgently calling her name.

No matter what kind of award it was, as long as it was official, it always carried some weight. Popular brands listed on CATV, the national television channel, gained their status in just this manner, providing many home textile companies with convenient promotion.

As for those protagonists who could recall every pivotal moment of the subprime crisis with pinpoint accuracy?

Xu Youxing sat cross-legged on the ground, closed his eyes, and performed his “Thousand Hands Technique,” a spell of profound connection and resonance. Before long, three hundred hands sprouted from his body, each separating and moving toward piles of clothing.

The Teotihuacan people measured time in cycles of fifty years. By calculation, this year was the Year of Xue Akat—perhaps the “White God” had truly returned for vengeance and restoration? A foreboding omen surged in Ocinet’s heart; he felt his future was shrouded in uncertainty, and nervously sent men to keep watch, paying close attention to every move of the “White God.”