A beam of light drove the clouds of darkness away.

Everything, from ghastly faces to centaurs to netherflames, were all swept away and reduced to black butterflies that fluttered softly as they dissipated into nothingness.

The glorious beam of light drove away all darkness shrouding the horse’s head peak, and the dwindling black butterflies left dappled shadows on the desert of the mountaintop.

It was like the light of dawn, when darkness and light intersected for a fleeting moment. There used to be countless Yin soldiers, dozens of Yuan Emperors and two Imperial Preceptors surrounding the mountaintop, sieging it with everything they had. But now, everyone was frozen in place.

It’s over…

Phagpa shut his eyes in despair. Everything was over.

The winners… are neither Temujin nor Tengri… but an ancient Yin spirit. To think that someone would one day defeat the alliance of a god and the emperors of an entire dynasty. How unbelievable…

He tried to clasp his hands together, but realized that his hands were simply frozen in place. No matter how he tried he wasn’t able to clasp them together.

The Yuan Emperors stood right before him. Every single one of them was staring at the Martyr’s Shrine with an abyss of emptiness in their hearts. Everyone knew that the dream of the everlasting Yuan Dynasty had finally come to an end today.

It was strange.

There was neither sadness nor resignation in their hearts. None of them felt like screaming in anger and rage.

Kublai Khan silently sheathed...