Yan Qianlie stood at the mouth of a gorge, his gaze cold and grim as he surveyed the scene within.
Inside the gorge lay a swamp, foul-smelling gusts of chilly wind sweeping across it.
He could faintly make out bones floating in the swamp: those of all manner of beasts, insects, snakes, and humans.
One corner of a skull of unknown age protruded from the muck. Its hollow eye sockets seemed to stare straight at Yan Qianlie, a deeply unsettling sight.
To the north was a scorching desert, yet to the south lay a sinister swamp...
Still, that was nothing unusual. Going by the geography of Chu Ge's Mortal World, such a phenomenon really could occur.
This was a death swamp, blanketed in poisonous miasma, where even a falling feather would sink. Over ten thousand years, countless cultivators had lost their lives exploring it. Few had ever made it out alive, and those searching for treasure had not found so much as a hair. In time, people had simply stopped coming.
Yet as the years passed, the swamp had begun sinking at some unknown point, exposing a stone slab at its edge.
A group of Demonic Path cultivators fleeing their enemies had reached its outskirts and discovered the slab by chance. From the magic patterns engraved upon it, they had comprehended first-rate mystic arts such as Life-Force Harvesting and Soul-Summoning Corpse Control. Gradually, they had formed a small sect, led by Room Fire Pig.
They had also tried exploring farther beneath the swamp, only to suffer heavy losses without discovering anything. Helpless, they could only continue gathering strength and wait for their opportunity.
They had established a base outside the swamp to train their core disciples while extending their reach into various cultivation cities, secretly harvesting and abducting people through