The place was nothing but ruins. Shattered dragon-shaped stone statues lay scattered everywhere.
The stench of blood hung thick in the air, and every so often, the mangled corpse of a dragon came into view. Some had been torn into several pieces; others were covered in claw marks.
But the bodies surrounding them were mostly headless white corpses—Qilin Race corpses. A sea of corpses and blood stretched along the way.
A streak of golden light slashed through the air. Dozens more headless white corpses—Qilin—screamed as they fell from the sky.
Wen Yan panted, her body wavering before she tumbled out of the air, nearly hitting the ground face-first.
"Senior Wen Yan!" Zi Luo, pale-faced on the ground, forced down the pain wracking her body and hurried to steady Wen Yan as she staggered.
"Senior Wen Yan, why put yourself through this? Wen He and I are nearly spent. You don't have to worry about us. Just find a way to escape on your own." Zi Luo weakly supported Wen Yan, who was covered in blood, and gave a bitter smile.
"You're a Purple Crystal Mirage Dragon, and Wen He has hidden dragon blood in his veins. You're both the future of the Dragon Race. The Grand Elder told me to make sure I got you out." Wen Yan coughed up blood. More than a dozen golden dragon scales had fallen from her body, leaving her in a wretched state.
Gazing at the devastation before her, Wen Yan couldn't help feeling desolate. The place where generations of the Dragon Race had lived had been ravaged beyond recognition. The Dragon Race was now in decline, and under the joint assault of the Shunli and Qilin races, they had been driven back again and again. Now that they had lost their last ancestral