After flying for another two hours, Zhao Hai felt numb. He had no idea how many cultivators he had met. All of them sat there without moving, their eyes closed as if they were cultivating. However, Zhao Hai could sense a deathly aura from them. The deathly silence had made them lose all hope of living. They were still persevering. Perhaps it was not because they were strong, but because it was a habit. Perhaps their hearts had already died.
However, this was also the reason why Zhao Hai was worried the most. These people were already prepared to die. Their hearts had already given up. This was all because of the environment here. They couldn't leave, so they could only wait for death. In addition, this was a confinement room. It wasn't strange at all for them to have such an aura.
