Rainwater, as well as the water gourds they carried, were all water, capable of quenching the thirst of cultivators like themselves, and naturally, even more capable of quenching the thirst of mortals.
Yet these mortals, clearly soaked by the rain, showed not the slightest sign of consciousness.
"Could it be that not a single drop of water can penetrate this heaven and earth, nor these mortals?" Zhang Fei Xuan said with a trembling voice.
It wasn't as if he had never seen the ways of the world, after all, he used to follow the Demonic Path, often witnessing mortals treated like ants, trampled on at will—the world had shown him all its facets.
But he had never seen anything like this before.
If they could not absorb water, essentially they could not absorb nutrients either, and if they couldn't eat or drink, how did these mortals manage to live here?
How had this Zhao Region sustained itself for so many years?
