Hua Qiang led a hundred Eastern Divine Palace disciples, riding streams of light as they slowly passed through the hazy barrier.
The moment they stepped inside, a piercing chill laden with dense bloodlust rushed at them, making this place seem like an entirely different world from beyond the barrier.
Before their eyes stretched a vast, desolate battlefield, so boundless that its edges could not be seen.
The cracked earth was dark brown, as though it had been seared by raging flames for ten thousand years, then soaked through by countless gallons of blood, congealing into an unmelting silence of death.
Broken ancient weapons littered the ground. The shafts of the long spears had long since rotted away, leaving only their spearheads with faint glimmers of cold light, though even those were pitted and corroded with rust.
Half of a broken sword lay buried in the sand, its patterns still faintly visible beneath mottled verdigris.
Fragments of shattered armor lay everywhere. The markings on the plates had been worn smooth by time, leaving only dried bloodstains that occasionally let out faint, broken whimpers beneath the Gale Force.
Massive palm prints sank waist-deep into the ground, the lines of their five fingers clearly visible, as though an ancient great expert had struck down with a single palm and violently shattered this land.
Sword scars several yards long crisscrossed the earth. At their deepest points, black rocks beneath the ground could even be seen. They were traces left behind by power capable of splitting heaven and earth; even after ten thousand years, they still exuded a heart-palpitating pressure.
"Holy Son, this is the Soldier's Graveyard Gobi, the outermost region of the Desolate Tomb."
A direct disciple of an Eastern Divine Palace elder hurried forward, his voice carrying a hint of gravity.
He raised