The Gaoli Kingdom's army was completely bagged.

Lei An and Yuan Long were in front of them, the Ning'an Army behind, and sheer cliffs on either side.

They were birds in a cage, turtles in a jar. Even with wings they couldn't have escaped.

The battle went on for three full days.

On the third day, as the sun sank in the west, it was finally over.

Apart from Cui Haocang, not one man of the Gaoli Kingdom's army was left alive.

The whole of the first passage through Mount Buddha's Hand was carpeted with bodies, and blood ran like a river.

The Great Xuan's soldiers had hacked until the edges of their blades curled.

Never mind the ordinary soldiers. Even the Ning'an Army was dead tired.

Ning Chen sat on his tall horse and gazed into the distance. The whole gorge had turned the color of blood.

He sent for Lei An.

His orders: take the men of the baggage train, dig a deep trench along the ground there, and bury every body where it lay.

After a short rest, the soldiers began clearing the battlefield.

The baggage train men started digging the trench.

Everyone else gathered up supplies and weapons and buried the dead.

By noon the next day, with tens of thousands of men at work, the bodies of every last one of the Gaoli Kingdom's soldiers had vanished... All that was left was the road, stained red with blood.

Men and horses alike were worn out.

Ning Chen ordered a halt to rest where they were.

The soldiers were so exhausted that they gnawed a little coarse flatbread, drank a little water, and fell asleep right there, lying down or leaning on whatever was handy.

Under the ground beneath them lay the bodies of the Gaoli Kingdom's soldiers.

The Great Xuan's soldiers weren't the least bit afraid. This was the Great Xuan's soil. They'd handled these men easily enough when they were alive. What was there to fear now that they were dead?

All they wanted right now was sleep. Even if the Gaoli Kingdom's soldiers…