Although she had heard Lei Wanshan and ding Wenqing talk about this Valley before, Ling Chuxi was still shocked to see it with her own eyes.
The valley was winding, and one could not see the end of it. On both sides, the precipitous stone walls reached into the clouds, probably thousands of feet high. They were cut by knives and axes, so smooth that it looked as if they had been split in half by a sword. Ling Chuxi even suspected that this huge Valley was the result of a battle between the powerful ancient masters.
The valley, which should have been dark, quiet, and green, was now in a mess. Countless giant trees had been uprooted, and there were still traces of charred black on the disorderly trunks. Countless boulders had fallen apart, and the angular gravel was scattered in every corner of the valley.
Dark clouds loomed overhead, and there was no sign of life in the valley. It was oppressive and heavy, as if it had just experienced an apocalypse.
