The massive valley was a river of flowing blood.
The setting sun, blood-red, set off the bloody valley, as if the entire world was left with one color, intense and blinding scarlet.
At some point, the shouts of slaughter and screams of horror had disappeared.
In the valley, a group of disciples from Yelian Blade Sect stood there, their faces filled with terror as they stared at the four deity-like silhouettes in the sky, their legs as heavy as lead, unable to move an inch.
They dared not run away.
Because they knew, they could not escape.
Perhaps standing here, they may have a chance to escape death.
The wind blew, a strong scent of blood seeped into their noses, rendering their faces pale and their bodies trembling.
Suddenly, a silhouette descended from the high sky.
This was a young man, his robes entirely dyed with blood, his sword still dripping fresh blood persistently, making him look like a world-dominating deity of killing.
