Rebuilding the Immortal Cultivator Clan Chapter 1966: 1452: Surrender

Capítulo 1966: Chapter 1452: Surrender

At long last, the conflict nears its conclusion!

Guided by Li Zhixuan, the attacking forces endured massive losses in lives before they finally triumphed over the indigenous inhabitants of This Realm, claiming a grueling success.

Not all bore injuries, yet scarcely anyone emerged without harm. Li Zhixuan herself appeared in dire straits, her garments shredded, her form smeared with blood and gore—part hers, part from foes.

They began with over ten thousand cultivators, yet now fewer than half endure!

The called-upon loose cultivators faced devastating casualties, while the Li family members suffered nearly as severely.

Still, when set against the close to eighty percent death toll among This Realm's natives, their sacrifices appeared less overwhelming.

“Ancestor Xuan, a band of Devil Beasts and Demon Cultivators who survived are heading toward their base. Do we dispatch forces to chase and block them?” In that instant, an elder approached, his expression fatigued as he inquired.

Li Zhixuan surveyed the drained appearances of all. Though she yearned to capitalize and crush the leftover natives outright, the harsh truth prevented it!

Moreover, she herself possessed the desire yet lacked the vigor, too fatigued to hunt the foes.

“Allow them to flee. Following this clash, the primary strength of This Realm's natives has been almost eradicated. They pose little further threat. All should recuperate first, then we'll plan ahead.”

Upon her words, the elder showed a hint of relief.

Evidently, he shared no desire to give chase but felt obligated to inquire. At last, he received his preferred response.

Yet while most could unwind— the surviving Array Masters bore a duty: establishing a defensive formation for the encampment!

Though the odds of another assault by This Realm's natives remained low, total dismissal proved unwise.

Only upon witnessing the surge of yellowish spiritual glow did Li Zhixuan fully unwind. She withdrew to her cave dwelling, consumed elixirs, mended injuries, and restored her spiritual energy.

In truth, despite dismantling the core forces of the realm's locals, the lingering Devil Beasts and Demon Cultivators retained considerable power!

And should they refuse submission, another fierce confrontation loomed.

…

On the opposing front.

The Devil Beasts and Demon Cultivators who evaded demise raced back to their fortified mountain in panic.

Their arrival swiftly attracted notice, particularly as others beheld their injuries and dwindled ranks—down to a mere one or two thousand, all seeming stunned and bewildered—promptly grasping the battle's dire result. Expressions paled to ashen hues, forms on the brink of crumbling.

“We were defeated? How is defeat possible?! We deployed tens of thousands, nearly our full elite contingent. How could such might still fall to invaders hindered by the Heavenly Dao?!” A Devil Beast wailed, teetering on mental collapse, demanding answers in stunned repetition.

Yet how could they reply? Defeat stood as fact.

And the survivors who returned weren't superior; they simply occupied the battlefield's periphery, dodging the fiercest carnage, and enjoyed slightly better fortune—that's what enabled their return.

Thus, they held no clear grasp of the events or the abrupt downturn.

“Curse it! Curse it all!”

Confronting this band that seemed terrified to their cores, helpless fury was all they mustered.

Ultimately, they lingered in desolation, uncertain of the path forward.

“Should we rally the leftover fighters and, exploiting the foes' severe wounds and exhaustion post-battle, clash in a final stand? What odds do you estimate for us?”

“Heh…”

A Demon Cultivator issued a chilling scoff and remarked, “Observe those nearby. Believe they retain any fight in them? The other remnants are chiefly low- and mid-tier Mortal Realm sorts—barely suitable as mere fodder.”

“In that scenario, forget parity; it'd equate to marching to our own doom!”

The statement stung with brutality, yet rang true.

Beyond the one or two thousand returnees, the mountain's other Devil Beasts and Demon Cultivators consisted of mere mid- or low-stage Mortal Realm individuals. On such a field, they offered zero utility!

By the moment they amassed sufficient numbers and arrived at the enemy site, one or two hours would have passed since the prior engagement concluded.

With ample pills at hand, that interval would suffice for the adversaries to regain fifty or sixty percent of their spiritual energy.

“What course do we take then?”

The Devil Beast erupted, “Must we merely await execution?!”

Barring those resolved to perish or steeped in total hopelessness, none craved passive slaughter!

The area plunged into hush.

“A single alternative exists: yield, serve as their thralls, transform the Floating Light Realm into their dominion.” After an extended pause, a Demon Cultivator uttered somberly.

Yet a Devil Beast creased his brow and countered, “Would they accept our submission, though?”

If the Demonic Tao retained opportunity, as fellow humans, the Devil Race, being outsiders, likely lacked even surrender's privilege!

Those outside our race harbor differing intents.

This truth extended beyond human awareness—the Devil Race comprehended it equally well.

Much like this very conflict, absent the peril of extinction in the Floating Light Realm, the Devil Race and Demonic Tao would never have allied.

That comment ushered in renewed quietude.