A great while had passed. The wind ceased and the dust settled. The once-bustling capital had become a black desert.
Luo Xiu lay motionless in the desert, most of his body buried beneath the black sand. In the utter silence, a warm breeze suddenly swept by. Luo Xiu's fingers twitched. He slowly opened his eyes, struggling to rise from the ground like a tender sprout awakened by the spring wind.
"Cough, cough, cough..."
Half-kneeling, Luo Xiu's body trembled as he coughed up several mouthfuls of black blood. He then lifted his head to look at Luo Hao, who was standing before him, planted in the black sand. His battle armor was shattered beyond repair, and his entire body was nearly charred black.
