A day passed in the blink of an eye. Hidden in the shadow of a dead tree, Huo Yuhao watched the stalemate in the basin below and sighed silently.
He had never seen such a crude, brute-force method of cultivation in his life.
He had assumed that the Heavenly Dragon Sect, a major sect with untold years of heritage and deep foundations, must have prepared some wondrous artifact capable of suppressing the laws of time, or some exquisite secret formation, before daring to harness an opportunity spanning time and space. At the very least, they would use some rare formation to cushion the impact of those laws.
Instead, these people had shown not the slightest technical finesse. They were simply throwing lives into the fire.
Relying solely on the experts within their sect, they burned the remaining lifespans of two Soul Douluos above rank eighty like firewood, forcibly holding open a passage against the scouring force of the laws of time.
Compared with his method of using the Heavenly Creation Cauldron to refine the violent flesh directly into perfectly pure Dragon Blood Pills, their approach was primitive to an appalling degree.
The condition of the two Soul Douluos responsible for drawing in the blood energy had gone beyond anything the word "tragic" could describe.
They had originally been burly men with only a little white at their temples. Now, more than half their dry white hair had fallen out, and deep, crisscrossing wrinkles covered their scalps.
The flesh of their cheeks had withered away completely, leaving only a layer of shriveled old skin mottled with brown spots clinging to their skulls. Their eyes were deeply sunken, their eyeballs so cloudy that scarcely a trace of life remained.
Their clothes hung loosely from their skeletal frames. Their withered hands remained locked