The stench of blood.
A blood stench so thick it could scorch the lungs hit them a thousand li before they reached the Blood Sea.
The sky had been dyed dark red. Even the clouds glimmered with a rusty crimson light, and the whole world seemed steeped in a vat of ancient blood.
Taiyuan stood on the cliff at the edge of the Blood Sea and glanced down.
A sea of blood stretched for ten thousand li, its crimson waves surging.
Every wave carried twisted faces—the lingering fragments of countless souls that had sunk into the Blood Sea over millions of years. Corroded by Blood Fiend, they had become eternal vengeful spirits.
They rolled through the bloody waves, howling and tearing at one another. Their cries merged into a deep hum, as if the whole earth were groaning.
"This place..." Zhunti pinched his nose, his face scrunched up. "It smells worse than a latrine."
Jieyin clasped his hands and recited a Buddhist prayer, his expression none too pleased either.
Zhurong didn't care about the stench. He leaned over the Blood Sea, turned his eyes this way and that, then slapped his thigh.
"That's it? I'll burn it dry in one go!"
Before he could finish, Dijiang's enormous, featureless head leaned over. His voice rumbled as he spoke.
"Go on, try burning it."
"The Blood Sea is the most yin place in heaven and earth. Its yin energy is three times denser than in Northern Darkness. Throw your true fire in there, and it won't even make a bubble."
Zhurong refused to believe him. He opened his palm, and a ball of crimson true fire shot up. He tossed it toward the surface of the Blood Sea.
The flame fell into the bloody waves.
There was no evaporation, no explosion. The