New Moon Province, outside Shangyang City, surrounded by eight rivers and extending mountains, the deeper one goes, the more barbaric it becomes.
There is a territory called "Demon Trap Pit," once an ancient battlefield.
Since ancient times, God Demons had battled here, Immortal Sects had clashed, and afterward, various mortal armies had buried their bones amongst it.
Tao Qian steadied Wei Ziyuan as they landed, looking ahead.
What a heavenly pit!
In the wild land, there was a massive circular wound, rotten to the marrow, spewing out various extraordinary gases.
First, Tao Qian and Wei Ziyuan felt the scorching stench of blood. Before two breaths could pass, a chilling wind blew out, cold and bone-penetrating, each piece, each thread, a group, a pillar—mortals would be terrified by the sight, and even cultivators would know better than to recklessly enter the dangerous area below.
Though, in the Cultivation World, danger often equates to opportunity.
