Yang Lingtian's heart shuddered, and he understood at once.
This was one of the most peculiar traits of Sky Burial Island that Tian Chenzi had mentioned.
It was an island that could move.
Moreover, its movements followed no pattern whatsoever.
It did not drift across the sea but shifted chaotically through a specific space.
Once inside, finding the way out again was no different from fishing a needle from the ocean.
"Interesting."
Instead, a faint curve tugged at the corners of Yang Lingtian's lips.
The stranger and more perilous this place was, the greater the secrets hidden within it must be.
The clues regarding Yiyue might be concealed within those secrets.
He paid no further attention to the island's movements and withdrew his gaze, continuing toward the direction from which the sensation was strongest.
As he ventured deeper, the surrounding scenery grew increasingly bizarre.
The blood mist became thicker, and faint whispers and wails began to mingle within it.
The sounds seemed to come from the Nine Netherworlds, filled with endless pain, hatred, and despair as they constantly battered his mind.
Had his Dao heart not been firm and Chaos Power not protected his body,
he would probably have long since lost control of his mind under the lure of those demonic sounds and gone mad.
A twisted dense forest appeared across the ground ahead.
The trees within it were a bizarre blackish purple.
Their gnarled trunks resembled countless arms struggling in agony, pointing toward the sky.
Even more spine-chillingly, those arm-like trunks bore corpses that had long since been dried by the wind.
There were grotesque demonic beasts, as well as human cultivators dressed in ancient garments.
The essence of their flesh and blood seemed to have been sucked dry by those strange ancient trees.
Only skin wrapped around