They passed through the blood-colored great moon.
Tu Shan Jun, within the banner, looked back.
Beyond the hazy blood moon lay a tangle of reality and dream. Outside stretched boundless bloody light, while within spread vast green fields alive with birdsong and fragrant blossoms.
Gentle sunlight and the spring breeze brushing past swept away everyone's worries, bringing endless tranquility to their hearts.
Standing upon this land, Luo Tianfeng said, "Our ancestor discovered this blessed land and built Eight Palaces and Eleven Estates around it as the Asura treasure vault. From then on, our clansmen took root and flourished here, gradually strengthening the clan. Now, we are one of the hundred races of the Underworld in name and truth."
The Underworld was not as clearly divided into five regions as the world of the living.
The Underworld was like a sunken abyss. Any lost person, object, or event could be found there.
It was said to house ten thousand races, but in truth, there were only more, never fewer. No one knew just how vast the Underworld truly was.
Cultivators from the world of the living rarely came here. Once they fell into this place, they would devise every possible means to return. Only when they truly could not return would they settle down here. Thus, the Underworld had grown ever more immense.
Shock flashed through Luo Yangwu's eyes. "Could it be that this place existed long ago?"
"Yes."
"An ancient land that has existed since long ago."
Those words were not only for Yangwu's ears, but also for Luo Manping's.
As the future cult leader, Luo Tianfeng needed to tell him every secret within the great cult now. Otherwise, if his scheme failed, he might never have another chance to say them.
"Old Boatman is not a cultivator of our