Lind was unconscious for days. He had forced through the tiniest connection to his old Authority and forced the First to act. It had broken his meridians and nearly fractured his foundation but it neatly side stepped the trap.
The Bastard was afraid of the First. The instant that massive black arm had clawed inside, the feeling of Fiend Qi had vanished entirely. The Fiend had fled rather than brush up against that power.
When he awoke groggily, he felt like he had gone back in time. A snowy and rocky plain stretched out before him as people fought and died in war.
Ash gray figures with grotesque perfect beauty took any opening to strike their army. All it took was a blade, a finger nail, or some kind of injury on bare skin to begin the process. Eternal Realm cultivators were not so easy to kill, yet a constant wave of attacks was too much.
A little over half of his original army remained.
