Chen Wanjun stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the forest in silence for a long time.
He turned, his gaze sweeping over everyone, and said in a deep voice,
"Make camp here. Rest for the night."
Everyone acknowledged the order and began to busy themselves.
The tents were quickly pitched, and the bonfires were lit.
Unlike the night before, the atmosphere tonight was clearly much more relaxed.
Although the casualties had been heavy, they had, at least, made it out alive.
Those fallen sect members would also be brought back, their souls to return to their homeland.
Fang Han sat by a bonfire, watching the dancing flames in silence.
Yun Qianyue sat beside him, equally silent.
The night wind brushed past, carrying the scent of the mountain forest and a faint chill.
Fang Han raised his head and looked at the night sky.
Countless stars dotted the sky, just as they always did.
