Inside Dragon-Phoenix Haven, figures appeared one after another, and the dark red grassland, once silent save for the wind and the rustle of grass, swiftly grew noisy.
Countless people gazed around with curiosity and excitement, eager to take in this ancient land.
After their brief shock, the more impatient among them could no longer hold back. One took the lead, channeling spiritual energy and streaking toward the depths of the grassland, where opportunities seemed most likely to lie.
Lin Ming and his two companions stood on the dark red grassland. Grass half as tall as a person swayed gently around their feet, stretching into the distance like an endless sea of blood.
An ancient, desolate aura hung in the air. Every breath seemed to draw into their lungs the scent of blood that had lingered for millions of years.
Yet at that moment, Lin Ming frowned slightly.
The grassland was too quiet. Its stillness felt unnaturally deathly.
There were no roars of spirit beasts, no birds overhead, not even the faintest chirp of an insect.
There was only the soft rustle of wind through grass. At first, the sound seemed harmless, but the longer he listened, the more an inexplicable chill crept into his heart.
He crouched and parted a clump of dark red grass before him, looking at the ground beneath it.
There should have been soil or rock there. Instead, he saw countless tiny holes.
Each was no bigger than a pinprick, yet seemed bottomless. They riddled the ground beneath the entire grassland like a honeycomb.
Lin Ming's pupils contracted slightly. A cold tide of unease crept over him.
The instant that unease arose, a sudden change swept across the vast dark red grassland.
The dozens of young experts who had ventured in first were flying low over