In the west of the Wilderness of Witches.
Miasma rose on all sides. The mountains were quiet, with only the chirping of insects to be heard. A band of barbarians stood guard at the foot of the mountain, golden silkworms tattooed on their faces. Their expressions were solemn, and each held a bone weapon.
Many slaves were escorted over, some barbarians, others people of Li. Men and women, young and old, all cried and begged for mercy. Bound in iron chains, they were dragged by the guards toward a cave abode on the mountain.
The vegetation beside the cave abode was yellow and withered, with scarcely any green. Corrosion had pitted the rocks, leaving their surfaces uneven. The place lay in shadow and was exceedingly damp. Miasma all but piled up before the entrance, forming clouds of vapor.
The vapor dispersed in an instant, and a youth stepped out. He had delicate features, red lips, and white teeth, and wore a purple-and-gold robe. His expression was cold. After glancing over the slaves escorted below, he asked with some dissatisfaction:
"Why are there fewer and fewer? Where have all the people gone?"
The barbarians responsible for escorting them looked terrified. Their leader stepped forward. Despite his cultivation at the eighth level of Qi Refining, he spoke with a tremor:
"Reporting to Lord Jin Zhong, there are few people in these parts. We've slaughtered all the local tribes, and the Immortal Dao blocks us to the west. We can't capture anyone."
"Useless."
A trace of murderous intent appeared on Jin Zhong's face. Looking down, he pointed a curled finger. The barbarian's body immediately contorted. Diseased blotches of every color appeared on his limbs, which swelled and began oozing pus.
The surrounding barbarians looked stricken, not daring to say a word. Jin Zhong