Xu Yunfan stared at the iron-colored encampment of the Profound Armor Army in the distance, his gaze as tranquil as an abyss.
He withdrew his finger and turned to Li Haomiao, his eyes profound. "Haomiao, have you ever seen a field during spring planting? When it's overrun with weeds, the farmer brings down his hoe and cuts them out by the root. It looks like a complete mess, but once the new seedlings break through the soil, you have endless acres of green."
Li Haomiao frowned. He understood what Xu Yunfan meant, of course.
In the current state of affairs, to reclaim the National Divine Artifact in these chaotic times, one first had to shatter the old world.
"But behind that word, 'shatter'..." He looked toward the cooking smoke rising under the setting sun in the distance, his voice raspy. "How many lives will it take to be enough?"
"Since when have you become so indecisive?"
