Sumeru Realm, once the seat of the Buddha Sect, had been the domain of the Western Region's Supreme in the Great Thousand World.
There were continents within the realm, along with countless small spaces. In ancient times, there had been a saying about the Sumeru Realm: a flower contained a world, and a leaf held a bodhi.
Yet as heaven and earth changed and calamity struck, the former Supreme of the Western Region had drifted here like rootless duckweed, leaving one with a sigh.
Even its name had become an ancient appellation. After all, amid uninhabited ruins, dead remains, broken walls, and crumbling structures, aside from descendants who kept it in their hearts, naturally no one else would remember it.
Countless experts had fought and fallen here, becoming part of these broken walls and ruins.
There had also been scavengers who found extraordinary things amid such ruins—inheritances, divine artifacts, or treasures—and rose to fame overnight, soaring to great heights.
Yet even when rumors of such fortuitous encounters occasionally spread, they found it difficult to stir up any waves in the Great Thousand World.
Compared with another famous borderland of the Great Thousand World, this place seemed to have been forgotten by everyone.
But being forgotten by everyone did not mean it had also been forgotten by the Evil Race.
This place was not a good destination for anyone.
But for the Evil Race, it was still a border of the Great Thousand World, and one of its entrances.
Since the entrance was here, there was naturally no reason to leave it unattended.
But when Xiao Yan and the others opened their eyes, all they saw before them was a gray haze, as though the world itself had lost all color.
"...Are we here?"
An unconscious murmur slipped from his throat.