In the Primeval Demonic Realm, on the western continent, within a ruined temple, after the slaughter, the heavy rain washed away every trace. Only the earth, stained faintly red, silently recorded what had happened before.
Inside the main hall, Ning Chen, who had waited for most of the day, tossed the last piece of dry firewood into the bonfire, then rose to his feet.
His responsibility had been fulfilled. There was no need for him to wait any longer.
Just as Ning Chen was preparing to leave, a little girl, drenched from head to toe and clutching a great deal of medicinal herbs, came running toward the ruined temple.
The road was muddy. The little girl's foot slipped, and with a smack, she fell to the ground. The herbs scattered into the muddy water and were covered in filth.
The little girl hurriedly climbed back up. Without even caring about the wounds on her body, she carefully picked up every herb, wiped them clean with her clothes, held them in her arms, and continued running toward the ruined temple ahead.
Within the ruined temple's main hall, Ning Chen stood quietly before the hall. Sensing the little girl's presence, he halted the step he was about to take.
That child had returned.
With a creak, the wooden doors of the ruined temple were pushed open. The little girl ran in with the herbs in her arms. When she saw the figure still standing before the hall, joy appeared on her little face.
Looking at the little girl who had returned, Ning Chen understood a few things.
"Didn't find a physician?" Ning Chen asked.
"The rain was too heavy. The physician wouldn't come with me," Keke answered timidly.
"Where did these herbs come from?" Ning Chen asked again.
"I traded something for