Dragon Clan

Tang Yuehua turned back to her desk, spread out a sheet of writing paper, and began revising the list of supplies to be sent back to the sect that month.

The pen felt somewhat heavy in her hand, but she wrote quickly.

She crossed out several of the rarer medicinal herbs originally slated for shipment, replacing them with more common herbs that were slightly less effective but available in greater quantities.

She also reduced the number of Gold Soul Coins as she deemed appropriate.

Metals and other supplies were reduced accordingly.

When she finished, she looked at the considerably diminished list and lightly bit her lower lip.

Surely her brother and the elders, spending every day on the mountain absorbed in cultivation, had no need for so many things.

They should understand.

Even if they did not, she could no longer concern herself with all that.

Right now, her second brother's health mattered most.

Everything else could wait.

The Dragon Realm.

It was an independent, shattered space drifting outside the main plane of the Douluo Continent.

There was no sun, moon, or stars, no mountains or rivers, only deathly silence and desolation stretching beyond sight.

The sky was an eternal dusky yellow, like old bloodstains congealed in place.

The ground was carpeted with bones, stark white or darkened, some as small as millstones and others as massive as mountains. Frozen forever in poses of struggle or repose, they silently spoke of the final resting place of a once-glorious race.

These were all the remains of the Dragon Clan.

The air was as thick as liquid. Dragon Clan energy, so dense it could not disperse, intertwined with lingering soul impressions, forming visible dragon clouds that drifted slowly like mist.

Occasionally, translucent dragon souls escaped from the bones, let out silent