It had already been four days, and the monsters that came dashing out from Shiwan Mountain grew stronger and stronger. They were no longer the hideous evil creatures with pointy fangs and sharp claws, but were malicious creatures that inherently possessed magic on their bodies; ones that would only be seen in ancient legends.
The cultivators too could not tell how many cycles they had exchanged. Almost everyone's expression was dimmed; the amount of injuries and fatalities too gradually increased. Little Chi Maojiu and Wen Leyang had yet to wake up; they appeared to be comfortable and in peace, each sleeping deeper and sounder than one another.
Following the dwarf Taoist priest's order, four thousand cultivators leaped out, and took the place of the previous group of companions.
