Fang Chen closed his eyes and unleashed the full Spiritual Sense of a Peak Seventh-Turn Immortal Emperor.
His Spiritual Sense spread like an invisible net, racing outward in every direction. It swept over scattered bones, ruined palaces, and floating debris; over Space Rifts torn open and sealed again by purple lightning; over barren hills and cracked plains, reaching toward the distant horizon.
Everything within tens of thousands of miles lay beneath his Spiritual Sense.
He could clearly sense that the suppression of the Laws in this Land of Ending was far weaker than in the Land of Ending within the Ancient Region.
There, the World Will's suppression had pressed on every Cultivator's shoulders like an invisible mountain. Even an Immortal Emperor had needed several times the usual strength just to move normally.
Here, the suppression still existed, but it was like a thin mist, nowhere near enough to restrict his senses or movement.
His Spiritual Sense kept expanding. One hundred thousand miles, two hundred thousand, five hundred thousand, a million, ten million...
He saw more.
On a distant horizon lay a vast basin. Its rim was so even it looked as though some enormous circular blade had cut it out. Corpses lay piled in layers across its floor, so densely packed they nearly filled the basin.
Many of those corpses still held the postures they had died in. Some reached toward the sky, some remained poised to cast spells, and others clung tightly together.
In that sea of corpses, Fang Chen saw human forms, beasts, half-human and half-beast forms, and things he could not classify at all.
Farther away, a mountain had been cleaved down the middle. The split was smooth as a mirror, its surface glazed as though it had melted under unimaginable heat and cooled in an instant.