The interior of the Holy Shrine was even more majestic than Xie Feng expected. Walls of pure white, tall pillars holding up the top with golden dragons surrounding them from beginning to end, paintings of creatures that Xie Feng had never seen, landscapes of beautiful gardens and mountains so high that their peaks pierced the clouds.
Xie Feng could even feel his body unconsciously relaxing. Somehow, he had lost all desire to fight; it was as if the mere thought of conducting a battle in this place was defamation. The most surprising thing is that Xie Feng did not fight against this feeling and simply let himself be dragged along without a fight. He even kept the Blood Sword in his inventory and approached one of the murals.
