By the Menglan River, the murky and darkened water of over a decade finally cleared up gradually after the departure of the foreign army.
This miraculous scene caught the eyes of the Demon Clan's generals, and they couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
At least, the foreign army truly retreated.
Mu Qingge and Si Mo stood side by side, suspended in the air, surrounded by clouds and mist, observing the expressions of those on the city wall, yet no one spoke a word.
"Peace at last." Yuan Feng sighed, the tension of over ten years suddenly releasing.
He was the commander stationed by the Menglan River, very familiar with its situation. Over these years, the blackened water of the Menglan River had been a continuous source of concern for him, though he never expressed it.
"The foreign race is cunning and their tactics are strange. Even with the original commander guarding the border, one must remain vigilant to prevent their surprise attack again," Qing Ze reminded.
