Not every place had a sky.
Yet whenever humans lifted their heads to look upward, they could always find a similar feeling.
Lost Realm, Xinwei Region.
The severed limbs floating in the air and the blood scattered all around made it clear that a brutal encounter had just ended.
Several young cultivators exchanged glances. In the end, the one who seemed most composed stepped forward and clasped his hands toward a woman in neat azure martial robes ahead of them. "Thank you, Senior Sister, for lending us a hand. Otherwise, we..."
He turned to look at a corpse his junior brothers and sisters had pieced together—it belonged to the elder from their sect who had brought them into the Lost Realm for training. He had perished together with a powerful member of the Sea Race, never again able to speak and guide them.
Sorrow tinged his voice. "We will never forget this life-saving grace."
The woman in azure martial robes was dissecting a sea beast, separating its flesh and blood as she extracted the only somewhat valuable bone spurs. Casually, she said, "We are fellow disciples. No need for thanks."
The woman was quite pretty, and her movements were crisp and decisive. A slender boning knife moved nimbly through the sea beast's corpse in her hand.
At this point, a round-faced female cultivator looked at her several more times before hesitantly asking, "Are you Zhu Biqiong... Senior Sister Zhu Biqiong?"
She had originally meant to call her Junior Sister Zhu Biqiong. Strictly speaking, she herself had entered the sect earlier. But recalling the combat strength the other woman had just displayed, she changed "Junior Sister" to "Senior Sister" at the tip of her tongue.
Zhu Biqiong deftly finished processing several bone spurs and put them into her Storage Box before