It was a patch of dense grassland, tall enough to block people.
When the wind blew, it was like a wave, a spectacular sight.
This was the hinterlands of the human race. Because of the barren land, there was no food that could grow here.
However, there were grass seeds and wild fruits that could replace food, but the production was not very high.
In the distant sky, a few figures were approaching quickly, and their divine senses were constantly sweeping in all directions.
They were Summoners from the divine city, clad in flesh armor and exuding a murderous aura.
As they had all been fallen human cultivators in their previous lives, they had a natural hatred and disgust for foreign races.
In the process of hunting down the foreign cultivators, the summoners didn't do anything perfunctory and won the praise of the entire human race.
The summoning cultivator did not care about such praise. Completing the mission was the most important thing.
