Atop a magnificent fortified city stood a crowd of people in all manner of outlandish attire.
They all held various weapons, their bodies radiating the bloody aura of slaughter, their expressions savage as they gazed out at the vast expanse beyond the pass.
Everyone standing atop the walls possessed some degree of cultivation, whether Spirit Transformation or Nascent Soul...
Outside the pass, countless Ancient Desolate Beasts gathered in dense masses, their red eyes fixed intently on the fortified city.
Their bloodthirsty instincts drove them to cross that barrier, towering like the gates of heaven, and get inside for a bout of slaughter.
Countless Ancient Desolate Beasts watched everyone atop the walls, ready at any moment to launch into a bloody struggle.
Those innumerable Demon Beasts massed outside the fortified city were enough to chill the heart...
"What do we do?"
Atop the walls, an elderly-looking man turned to ask the person beside him, his voice trembling despite himself.
The old man was already advanced in years, yet his cultivation was only at Spirit Transformation...
This was the norm in the world. How could there be so many Heavenly Prodigies?
Spirit Transformation was already a dream that so many cultivators could see but never reach.
Countless people cultivated their entire lives only to stop at Spirit Transformation, while even more remained at Nascent Soul.
Or perhaps most people would struggle their whole lives without ever Entering the Dao.
Cultivators were already as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns, and how many could possess both the talent and the various resources of Heavenly Prodigies?
The old man who had spoken looked at another old man beside him, but the man he had questioned was likewise staring in some terror at the countless Demon Beasts gathered outside the walls.
"Hold to the