It was already past three in the morning.
The sprawling camp of the Allied Forces, spanning dozens of miles, was still bustling with activity.
Bonfires, roasted meat, alcohol, women, and music—this was less a siege by a massive army and more a giant outdoor party for 300,000 people.
In an open area, eight wooden stakes stood tall, each with a person bound to it. They were the disciples of the Eight Great National Protector War Gods.
"We can't just sit here and wait to die!" whispered Huo Wu, the disciple of Qing Luan.
She appeared to be about eighteen or nineteen years old and was very beautiful, but her skin was somewhat rough and tanned to a bronze color, with a touch of highland blush on her face.
