By the next morning, cold sunlight fell across the barren cliffs and open plains.0

The surviving disciples of the Holy Tree Temple regrouped, their faces still etched with lingering terror. All around them lay gruesome remains on the dusty earth—flayed and dismembered corpses of every sort. Their stomachs churned at the sight, and with undisguised fear, they hurried to withdraw.0

Only when they caught up with Jing Banfeng, Cui Wuji, and Li Yuan did they finally let out a shaky breath of relief.0

Jing Banfeng’s expression was grim. He glanced warily into the distance, too frightened to extend his senses. After a brief pause, he addressed the remaining disciples in a low voice, “We’ll leave this place first and then figure out exactly...0