Until the end, people were silent.

When the first person threw the urns of his relatives at the Void Gate, two or three... they threw the urns they wanted to take out of the ancient battlefield and threw them to their hometown.

All the urns were sent out.

Back to that hometown.

The Gate of Void gradually closed.

No one from the Three Gods left. They pulled out their weapons from their waists and turned to look at the God Wuming who was leaning against the tree and drinking, as if everything was as tacit understanding as before.

But this time... it is no longer a superficial disguise.

"The ancient camps of more than ten miles have been singed together with horns of eight hundred miles!"

"The broken branches and flags rise with the wind, and the souls of the dead will rise up!"

"Forget all sentient beings here suffer, and return to the great heroes of the nine provinces!"

"Take my God's clothes and protect my Chinese son!"

I don’t know who slowly recited the song “The God General” written by Qin Mo.

Listening to the melodious poem floating in the night sky of the ancient battlefield, Shen Wuming finished drinking the last drop of wine in the gourd.

He straightened his waist and slowly looked at the three members of the Shen San Group, with a firm look on his face.

He pointed with one hand towards Sanguan.
Chapter completed!