The four main camps of the sea tribes were now gloomy and filled with a sorrowful atmosphere.
The sea water had lost its self-cleaning function and became extremely smelly. The living environment was simply terrible to the extreme.
The low-level sea tribes were terrified, and so were the high-level sea tribes. The vast ocean under their control had now become a pot of soup on the fire.
When the pot was opened, it would be the day of death.
The sea race's cultivators loved the sea water being rich and full. This way, they could swim freely in the boundless ocean.
Wherever the sea covered was the territory of the sea Race. They were the only rulers.
However, ever since the accident happened, the vast sea water had rapidly receded, and the space for activity had become more and more narrow.
The Ocean Pearl's cultivator felt as if his neck was being clutched, and he found it harder and harder to breathe.
