Seated inside the office, Qiu Yan gripped the hem of her robe, her nerves making her fingers fidgetingly. She lowered her head, and her cheek burned a deep crimson.
The old ancestor had departed the moment she completed her mission with Mo Jian.
She had slipped into the Southern Region with little hope for their continent's survival, yet she carried a glimmer of news that might alter the balance of power.
Who would have thought she would receive the shock of her life?
Three thousand Stoneheart Armors and five thousand elemental weapons lay at their disposal, a monumental stockpile that could change the course of a war.
She could hardly wait to return to the Central Region, distribute the weapons, and spread the news.
Their continent would not fall to the evil sects. Many had already lost hope, but with this, the flame of resistance could be rekindled.
As for her descendant, she had left her behind.
