Two days later.
Northern Emperor Dao State had become Blood Province.
Thick, clotted blood mist piled over the firmament, shrouding sky and sun, covering everything. It surged and rolled, within it countless妖族 grievances could be seen, condensing into ferocious beasts that let out hysterical roars.
On a certain great mountain, Qin Wudao sat upright on a chair, holding a book in his hands and reading it carefully.
As if he had not the slightest interest in the slaughter down below.
All the way till now.
He had been through far too much slaughter.
Slaughter was forever the quickest way to deal with enemies.
He always remembered that he was the emperor of a nation, holding the future of the Qin Dynasty in his hands; when it came to dealing with enemies, he must never be soft-hearted.
"Your Majesty, the妖族 powerhouses and their armies have been slaughtered to the last!"
