The Red Rou Palm Sacrifice remained silent, but nodded slightly, signaling the one-eyed old ghost to continue speaking.

His fingers gently stroked the paper of ancient books, as if he was looking for a solution to it.

"As long as the bastards of the royal family don't interfere, we still have the ability to destroy that guy Ling Xiao!"

A trace of ruthlessness flashed in the eyes of the one-eyed old ghost, and his fists were clenched tightly, as if he was ready to fight to the death with Ling Xiao.

The Red Pawn Saint shook his head and frowned: "Now the royal family is Ling Xiao's allies, and they are helping each other, and they will definitely help."

"The power of the royal family cannot be underestimated. If we act rashly, we may be in a dilemma of attack on both sides."

The one-eyed old ghost said confidently: "Then find other forces to restrain the royal family, the Qin family, the feathers, and the waters are all good choices."

"The Qin family has always been eyeing the position of the royal family. As long as we promise to be profitable, they will definitely help. There are also some contradictions between the feather tribe and the water tribe and the royal family. We can use these contradictions to keep them in hindering each other with the royal family."

The red robe Zhangshen frowned even more. He looked at the one-eyed old ghost coldly: "I said the one-eyed old ghost. Our previous failure was because of despising Ling Xiao. Do we want to do it again?"

"Ling Xiao is unfathomable, and there may be a stronger power hidden behind him."

"We cannot make the same mistake again, we must act with caution."

The one-eyed old ghost said firmly, "This is our only chance. If we want to get rid of Ling Xiao, we can only do this."

The Red Pawn Sacrifice pondered for a long time and said slowly: "I'll think about it again."

The one-eyed old ghost sighed, saluted slightly, and retreated.

The red robe palm festival sat alone in the hall, with deep eyes and no idea what to think about.

...

The wilderness wind was wrapped with gravel, like countless tiny arrows, whistling across the broken urn of Batian City.

The mottled talisman flashed and darkened on the surface of the city wall. It was a defensive array pattern drawn by the imperial powerhouses with their natal essence and blood. Each pattern was silently telling the once tragic battle.

Twelve black-armored warriors patrolled neatly on the bluestone bricks that had not yet been completely restored. The clanging sound of their armor colliding alarmed several gray sparrows that were building nests among the broken walls.

The flapping sound of gray sparrows flapping wings echoing in the empty city, making this rebuilt city lonely and deserted.

The figures of the strong men were traveling like meteors over the ruins. The powerful aura emitted by them made the air around them tremble.

The old man with white hair was flying with silver hair. He waved his wide sleeves, and three pieces of basalt weighing pounds were lifted up by an invisible giant hand, floating up, and then accurately embedded into the gap in the city wall.

The girl in red looked focused, and a crystal clear ice blade condensed into her fingertips. With a gentle wave, the broken beams and pillars were shaved neatly.

These means, which are comparable to miracles in the eyes of mortals, are just the most common process in the great cause of reconstruction.

However, when their eyes looked at the crisscrossing ruins in the city, they could not hide their melancholy expressions.

The once carved beams and painted buildings and extremely luxurious residences of aristocratic families are now only charred beams and pillars, standing alone in the wind.

The streets paved with glazed tiles have long been melted into winding glazed rivers by war. Those disappearing prosperity cannot be easily reshaped by the mysterious method. They require a long time and countless efforts.

The mansions and bustling shops that were once numerous in the city were almost completely destroyed under the fierce attack of the Holy Church.

The aristocratic family, who survived by chance, moved away from this sad place in order to avoid the possible disaster that might come again.

Merchants also swept away their property and fled this no longer safe city.

Now, only empty streets and cracked bluestone pavements are left, as if silently accusing the cruelty of war.

Only the warriors of the Domineering Empire patrolled and guarded the ground step by step every day. Their firm steps and upright posture added a bit of popularity to the empty city and protected the remaining hope on this land.

Against this background, the Money Gang became an organization specializing in commerce in the Batian Empire, and shouldered the important task of rebuilding materials transportation and construction.

When dusk falls, the ebony convoy of the Money Gang will gather outside the city and then enter one after another.

The night pearls inlaid on the shaft emit a soft and bright light, illuminating the road surface.

The middle-aged man in the lead jumped out of the car, with a tired but determined look on his face, raised his waist sign to the guard at the city gate, and said loudly: "The third batch of Western Regions cloud pattern stones have arrived, I'm not going to be in charge of the affairs."

The wheels slowly ran through the cracked bluestone slab, making a squeaking sound, as if the city was moaning and enduring the pain of reconstruction.

The craftsmen under the Jinqian Gang work day and night, and they skillfully operate various tools to assist in repairing severely damaged areas.

If they had not done their best to help, the reconstruction progress of Batian City would have been delayed by at least half.

In the afternoon of that day, the hot sun shone on the ground, and Jin Ruoxi was wearing a plain long skirt, and the hem of the skirt fluttered gently in the wind.

She stepped on the ground with broken tiles and walked carefully into the hall of counseling under construction by the Batian Empire.

The beams and pillars in the hall have not been completely completed, and the temporary ceiling is shaking in the wind and can only barely cover the sun.

The sun shines through the gaps and casts mottled light and shadow on the ground.

Jin Ruoxi sat down with a relatively flat stone bench. She waited quietly, with a hint of nervousness and expectation in her eyes. She didn't know what changes the upcoming talks would bring to the future of this city.

The unique crisp sound of footsteps and the unique crisp sound of the black iron boot buckle are just like the rhythm of the thick war drum on the ancient battlefield, from far to near, and every step seems to be stepping on the heartstrings of a person.

Ji Mingkong was wearing a black robe, and the dark golden lines on it appeared and faintly in the light and shadows of the hall. He swayed gently with her steady and slightly anxious steps, like a flowing vast galaxy.

She raised her hand and accidentally sorted out the dragon-shaped jade hairpin on her temples. This crown, which was carefully carved from the peak power of the empire, was carefully carved with ten thousand years of cold jade, exuding a cold luster under the twilight, symbolizing the supreme power to overlook all living beings.

However, at this moment, with her slightly rapid movement, the halo reflected by the jade hairpin was faintly revealed.

Ji Mingkong strode into the hall, his eyes swept towards Jin Ruoxi like a sharp eagle falcon.

I saw Jin Ruoxi sitting gracefully on the stone bench, with the tiny light spots on her skirt swaying gently with the breeze blowing in from the window frame, like a lively starlight.

Seeing this, Ji Mingkong couldn't help but frown slightly, and a trace of guilt flashed across his face.
Chapter completed!