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Duanchang Mountain, Blood Sea Battlefield.
Stench of blood, blood sea, desolate bones!
This was a land of obliteration, an ancient battlefield where death was the only melody. There was no light here, nor any glimpse of hope, as fierce blood-light engulfed the sky between heaven and earth.
Atop a mountain of corpses and white bones, the Primordial Spirit sat high on the White Bone Throne, shrouded in black radiance, entwined with blood light. When their eyes twinkled, they would gaze toward the vast Heavenly Gate, their depths occasionally flashing with profound colors.
"Gu Xiaoxiao should be making her move soon, right?" A blood-colored phantom quietly appeared beside the Primordial Spirit, its voice heavy as it spoke.
"Do you think Ye Xuan will kill her?" the Primordial Spirit's voice was inscrutable.
"It's hard to say."
