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The city gradually faded away.

The defeated soldiers gradually sailed into the lost night.

When they left, they had already destroyed all the boats on the dock that they could not take away in time.

There were no pursuers.

It was safe for now.

But such temporary safety was as meaningless as the respite before a pig or a sheep being butchered.

The nerves of the fanatics gradually relaxed.

He also had more time to consider the reasons for his failure.

Since they were the most hardcore fanatics, naturally, they would not admit that the 'True God' they worshipped was not as good as the 'False God' worshipped by the Fist Temple.

On the other hand, Brother Luo Xinglong had been leading them in Qianyuan City for many years. He was wise and wouldn't make any mistakes.

As for their own beliefs, they were flawless, too. They were all men who were willing to die for the God of Machinery and Steam.