The wind sighing through the jagged spires of the Bone Dragon Peaks carried a desolate chill. Wang Jian stood on a high precipice, the eerie crimson twilight of the Blood Forbidden Ground painting the skeletal landscape in hues of perpetual dusk.
He needed a secure location, a temporary sanctuary to sort through the spoils of his recent, bloody endeavors and, more importantly, to delve deeper into the cultivation scriptures he had acquired.
His Steller Demonic Meridian Scripture was potent, but it was a living art, designed to evolve, to incorporate new strengths.
His gaze swept the desolate terrain below. He spotted a narrow, almost invisible fissure in the side of a lesser peak – the kind of place that might house a reclusive beast.
Perfect.
He descended, his movements silent and fluid. As he neared the fissure, a low growl emanated from within, followed by the scuttling sound of multiple legs.
