As the battlefield fell silent, Ji Wuchen slowly pushed himself upright and steadied his breathing with visible effort. His first gaze landed on Miao-Miao, and the shock on his face had still not faded fully.
He stared at the little girl for several breaths without speaking a single word to anyone nearby. Then his eyes slowly moved toward the dead bodies of his subordinates scattered across bloodied ground.
The pride that once covered his face had already vanished during the earlier battle. What remained now was anger, loss, and a heavy silence.
He walked forward personally and collected each corpse one by one without allowing others to touch them. The injured members of his group stood nearby quietly, none daring to speak first.
Every movement he made was steady, yet the grip of his hands was tight. Even those watching from afar could feel the rage buried beneath that calm.
