The sound of pickaxes hitting rock echoed through the dark, hot caves.
Meng Hao looked around, clearly displeased at the endless discomfort and risk this environment offered. He had been brought here with many cultivators, and most had died. Not even ten percent of them were left now... The majority had died to exhaustion, and the unlucky few transformed into strange fire demons that had to be killed shortly afterward by their own colleagues.
His body felt heavy. But Meng Hao still tided through the exhaustion and kept breaking the Blood Rocks.
Day in and day out, they were forced to mine and gather blood rocks. Then place it in mining carts, that would carry it outside. The idea of trying to escape never crossed the minds of any of the cultivators here - since the whole mine was guarded by Ascendant Cultivators. The mere thought of trying to escape them was tantamount to contemplating suicide.
