"The Mortal World?"
Hu Tutu's eyes widened, as though stars were twinkling in them.
This world was so vast that even those immortals who flew on swords could never glimpse its entirety in their lifetimes.
Yet throughout this boundless world, members of the Human Race could be found everywhere.
Billions of humans lived in every corner of this world, building one mighty empire after another.
Compared with cultivators, those ordinary people had short lives, yet they created civilizations that even cultivators could not match.
In this world, people capable of cultivating were few and far between. Far more were ordinary people who went their entire lives without ever seeing a cultivator.
The places where these countless ordinary people lived were called the Mortal World by cultivators.
Hu Tutu had only heard about the Mortal World from her grandfather.
The Mortal World was a dangerous yet enchanting place, for cultivators and the Demon Race alike.
The closer one drew to the Mortal World, the thinner the Heaven and Earth Essence became, and the harder cultivation grew.
When cultivators approached the Mortal World, their cultivation would be continually suppressed by Human Race Destiny.
Not to mention the countless karmic entanglements within the Mortal World. If one carelessly became entangled in them, at best, one's cultivation would struggle to advance an inch; at worst, one would suffer cultivation deviation, dying with one's Dao extinguished.
The smoke and fire of mortal life most readily corrupted a Daoist's heart.
Ouyang rode on the Paper Crane with Hu Tutu in his arms, while Leng Qingsong flew alongside them on his sword.
The three had changed out of their Daoist robes and dressed as young wandering heroes.
In the Mortal World, Daoist robes were not something to wear lightly. Wearing them unwisely could invite unnecessary trouble.
Thus,