He paid no attention to the coffin on the mountain.
Jiang Qiao and Mo Qingying crossed the open ground and entered the final stretch of their journey through the mountains.
This place was different from the glaciers and volcanoes.
The entire region seemed shrouded in layers of shadowy curtains, filled with a gloomy, faint blackness. It was somewhat like an area blocked from the sunlight.
It was not very dark.
But it always gave people the illusion of being gloomy.
The two walked one in front of the other.
They moved through the region at an unhurried pace.
They soon noticed that corpses hung everywhere—in the mountain valleys, the cracks, beneath the soil, and on the cliffs...
Some belonged to animals.
Some belonged to humans.
Others belonged to strange creatures.
For example.
There was a creature covered in densely packed legs, yet shaped like a wild wolf. It looked as if it had undergone some kind of mutation.
It had already died in silence, sinking into eternal slumber. Yet when they passed by it, the terrifying fluctuations around it still made their hearts tremble, even after who knew how many tens of thousands of years.
After walking for some distance through the bone-filled valley.
They began climbing the mountain.
Apart from the rotting corpses, there were also stone pillars made from enormous black, gray, and red barbaric stones. They stood dozens of meters high, with diameters exceeding one meter.
Arranged together according to some kind of pattern, they formed stone arrays that were either circular, rectangular, or triangular.
They looked as if they held some mysterious significance.
Unfortunately.
Most of the stone pillars had already broken and collapsed. The stone arrays had also been severely damaged, and now they looked like nothing more than ordinary ancient ruins, devoid of any