Qian Cheng strolled through Two Realms Mountain with his hands behind his back.
The scene at the foot of the mountain was vastly different from what he had expected.
There were no lavish mansions with carved beams and painted rafters, only a building that gleamed with the cold, hard luster of metal.
What drifted from its chimneys was not cooking smoke, but gray fumes reeking of rust and blood—a factory that devoured lives.
His black robes stirred faintly in the mountain wind, while Qian Cheng's expression remained as calm as a frozen pool.
It was as though the place before him was not a dragon's lair or tiger's den, but merely an ordinary path.
"Stop! Who are you?"
"This is property of the Strength Clan! Unauthorized persons are forbidden from entering!"
Two guards clad in grayish-brown combat attire stood on high alert, their wary gazes repeatedly sweeping over Qian Cheng.
"Property of the Strength Clan?"
No emotion could be heard in Qian Cheng's voice, yet the two guards' hearts inexplicably tightened.
"Hmph! Of course it is!"
The guard nodded arrogantly, about to continue berating him.
The next instant—
Crack! Crack!
Two dull, teeth-grinding sounds of bones breaking suddenly rang out, like watermelons being smashed apart.
The guards had not even seen Qian Cheng move. They only felt a sharp pain in their necks before their vision spun wildly.
Their heads had already parted ways with their bodies, yet their eyes still held the terror from before death.
Warm blood splattered across the cold iron gate like flowers of death blooming.
Qian Cheng expressionlessly stepped over the twitching corpses. His black robe brushed past the blood on the ground without picking up so much as a speck of dust.
Since it belonged to the Strength Clan, there was nothing more to