Little junior sister, she cried in the world of cultivating immortals

Chapter 668 War
The Soul World also sent support when other parts of the Qingxuan Continent fell.

But there are too many monsters!

And as more monks died, the monsters seemed to become more and more powerful.

But how can there be no death in war?

It is obviously a prosperous world of cultivating immortals, but it seems that no one can stop this natural and man-made disaster...

"Elder Sheng, when can they come?"

The male cultivator at the bottom, whose hands were severed and one eye was blind, was still fighting and looked at Sheng Huaian eagerly.

He wants to go home.

But until the war ends, he cannot go home.

His family is still in that still safe land, his children have not yet grown up, his father has lost his fighting ability, and his wife has died in the battle.

If he retreats, if they give up, will his elderly father and young children be forced to fight and kill the enemy?
Then he can fight again!

Without his hands, he can control it with spiritual power and hold weapons with his mouth!

Even if he loses his hands and legs, as long as he still has life, he can fight until the end!
But he really misses home...

Sheng Huaian suppressed the tears in his eyes and opened the corners of his mouth.

"I have received the news. They are rushing towards us. It's just because we are far away and we have to kill those monsters along the way, so it takes a long time. But if everyone keeps on holding on, rescue will arrive, but we can't If you fall down again, wouldn't all our hard work for so many days be in vain? I still want to take you home!"

Everyone felt that their bodies seemed to have some strength again.

At this moment, they had no time to care whether it was true or false.

If they could live, which of them would be willing to die?

At this moment, Sheng Huaian's words were like the last hope. "Yes! Just hold on a little longer! Just hold on a little longer and that's it!"

"Don't give up, everyone!"

"Yes... we can't... let go... and go back... home..."

But there are still people who have closed their eyes forever here.

On the list of the gauntlet, names were written one by one.

"Xie Jinshu, Liu Tangyi, Jiang Wanzhou, Han Shuman, Lu Sirou, Sheng Zhijun, Qiyue, An Ruochu, Qiao Xi, Zhiyan, Yun Suiwan, Shu Bai, An Qinghuan, An Ge, Xie Zhiheng, Lan Xi, Sheng Huaian, Fu Sinian, Cheng Yuyuan, Nanxun, Ye Xinghui, Ye Huaishan, Si Yuandao, Jun Yi'an, Ciyu, Rongchuan, Wen Xiuyuan, Dai Yanzhi, Xia Xingchu, Fu Huaijing, Gu Qingchen, Zhou Shiyu, Fang Zhiye, Mu Jing Chen, Gu Changzhou, Ye Ze..."

The number of people left is still decreasing, and each name turns from bright red to gray and black.

The remaining disciples within the sect have become foundation-building monks.

The new generation leader of Shangyao Sect, sixteen-year-old Qingyang, was sitting in the main hall, holding a long sword and a letter of war.

He will defend the sect until he dies in battle!

He will wait for his ancestors, masters, masters, uncles, uncles, brothers and sisters to go home!
"Quick! Hide in!"

At the temples of the Gods Mountain, several temple monks covered in mud greeted the exhausted monks.

The cracked statues of gods in the pantheon have long been turned into powder.

Only some newly built statues, most of the nameless statues that have not been cracked, and a few statues with surnames are left.

And this is also a place where those monsters dare not set foot.

Those monks who were fighting near the Mountain of All Living Beings would come here to get some respite when they really couldn't fight anymore.

The originally pure white robes of the envoys of the temples were stained with blood.