Black clouds stretched across the boundless sea, and demonic energy surged into the sky.
Amid an oppressive atmosphere like midsummer before a storm, several streaks of flight light skimmed across the water, deliberately avoiding the migrating horde of demons ahead.
It was now the third day since everyone had assembled in the western reaches of the North Sea. Using Mystic Traversal Talismans specially supplied by the Merchant Association, they had traveled hundreds of thousands of miles, crossing the ends of the earth in one push to reach the Quelu Sea adjoining the West Sea.
This was the source of the demonic disaster. Despite the demons spreading and their tribes migrating, countless varieties had remained. Fortunately, the sea was vast. Unless they passed through resource-rich waters and encountered hunting demons, they would not run straight into them.
The cultivators previously caught in the disaster zone had discovered this pattern and deliberately avoided places with large populations or concentrations of fish and sea monsters.
Several more hours passed before an isolated, barren island appeared in the waters ahead.
It measured hundreds of miles across, comparable to a province in a mortal kingdom, and ordinary mortals could hardly approach or explore it.
Coral, seaweed, dead fish, rotting shrimp, mud, sand, and stones lay scattered everywhere. As far as the eye could see, it was a desolate landscape freshly dredged from the seabed.
But what drew greater attention was the dense demonic aura permeating the entire foundation of the island.
It had only risen from the seabed in recent days and had even originated in another dimension, rather than belonging to this mortal world universe. Moreover, the corpse of a Medieval Great Power lay buried inside. The mere thought was oppressive.
"Everyone, search the surrounding area. Report immediately if you find the entrance to