The Underground Palace was deep and deathly silent.
The stone platform in the main burial chamber where the coffin had once rested had been remodeled, with a reclining chair added. A certain flood dragon lay on her side, sleeping soundly while drawing in Earth Vein Dragon Qi to improve herself. There was no fruit, only large fresh lamb shanks sprinkled with salt, fragrant and delicious.
After sleeping for a while, she lifted her eyelids and glanced at the large red candle in the corner.
"Strange. The flame hasn't turned green and started swaying. I really want to see the legendary Ghost Blowing Candle with my own eyes."
Every day, she had nothing to do but eat. If not for earning merit, why would she need to run all over the place? Still, this was good too—her cultivation was truly rising at a rapid pace.
When the Flood Dragon Maiden profited, naturally someone else suffered grievous losses.
In truth, Green Wolf's declining fortune made little difference to the ordinary peoples of the wilderness. Those who should herd continued herding, and those who should fish focused on fishing. The grasslands were enough to feed their cattle, sheep, and horses. At most, unexpected mishaps might interrupt them when they prepared to go raiding. Their normal lives were not greatly affected, and ordinary people remained untouched.
The ones most affected were the various petty kings of the wilderness.
The Central Plains had originally been weak, giving them the chance to march south, seize territory, capture slaves, strengthen their tribes, and hasten toward their dreams of becoming emperors and accomplishing great deeds. Yet before they could even set out, their backbone was broken. All sorts of incidents happened at precisely the wrong time, weakening their tribes. Either the weather would not permit it, or their