Dark golden rain of light fell from the high sky.
The dark golden motes, each the size of a soybean, were round as pearls, yet every drop weighed as heavily as a mountain. Within each tiny point of light, a small yet extraordinarily intricate rune slowly revolved, emanating an extremely ancient and solemn aura. Corresponding to every human on the continent, each person was allotted a point of golden light, which merged into their body directly through the crown of their head.
A scalding torrent surged into their bodies. From the Lin Family progenitor on down, every human—whether from the Eastern Continent or the Western Continent, whether Black Spirit People or members of other minority races—felt pain as though they were being hacked apart by a thousand blades.
The blazing torrent was like a blade, scouring through their bodies again and again. In the blink of an eye, every human felt as if they had been tempered tens of thousands of times in a furnace of molten steel. Vast amounts of thick black sludge continuously seeped from their skin, searing steam constantly burst from their bodies, and a foul stench kept wafting out from within them.
The Lin Family progenitor and all Ancient Clan members who cultivated genuine human cultivation arts secreted very little black sludge—merely a token amount. The stench emanating from their bodies was also much milder, roughly equivalent to the accumulated sweat smell of going three to five months without bathing.
But for those ordinary humans, the black sludge secreted from their bodies was practically like a thick suit of armor draped over their skin. The stench on them was like ten thousand toilets that had gone unclogged for over a century being smashed open at once. Even they themselves could not bear that foul reek, and