The Dragon people fell silent for a long time, and the cave was shrouded in dead silence.
Vines twisted and intertwined, and blood fruits dangled like teardrops ready to fall, their alluring sensation on the bloodline had completely dissipated, leaving only a sense of chill.
Eating people.
Eating their own people.
Long Zongyin took two steps forward, picked up the flat shovel that was propped up in the corner of the cave wall, and walked over to the three mounds to start digging.
The great Martial Master of Tiger Hunting, looked just like an ordinary farmer, stepping on the shovel head and pressing down the long handle to turn over the soil.
One shovel, one lift.
Long Binglin suddenly realized that the three mounds in front of him were not located in the center of the entire cave but to the right side.
The flat shovel did not stop, and the heavy Dragon spine soil piled into small mounds.
