Seventh Theater Command, Logistics Department, B-Class Supply Battalion.
The air was thick with the stench of blood and the lingering smell of scorched earth. The sky was a sickly dark red, and occasionally, enormous fissures in the laws flashed deep within the clouds, like wounds torn open in the Heavenly Dao.
A-Liang led Chen Lin and his party of ten through a military camp shielded by layers of formations. Along the way, cultivators hurried to and fro, most bearing unhealed wounds, their eyes cold and numb.
"Your quarters are just ahead." A-Liang pointed at a sprawling cluster of stone houses and lowered his voice. "Centurion Gu Yuan is in charge of your squad. He has a fierce temper, but he's reasonably fair. I've already delivered Lord Ning's written orders. Take care, everyone."
With that, A-Liang dared not linger. He cupped his hands and flew away in a streak of light. He did not want to spend another second with this bunch of formidable characters who casually pulled out Immortal Artifacts.
Chen Lin stood before the stone houses, his gaze sweeping over the grim camp.
Song Qiuya and the others remained silent, extending their divine sense slightly as they watched for any activity around them.
"Let's go in and report." Chen Lin stepped forward and pushed open the wooden door of the largest stone house in the center.
The furnishings inside were exceedingly simple. Behind a long blackwood desk sat a bare-chested middle-aged man, his chest covered in crisscrossing blade scars. He held an enormous wine jar, and his body radiated violently surging qi and blood that faintly warped the surrounding space.
Tribulation transcendence.
This was a transitional realm between the perfected late great vehicle stage and the human immortal realm. With one foot already on the path of immortality, a