The former site of the Demon Spirit Sect's garrison.
The former demonic den had followed the contours of the mountains, its clusters of halls and pavilions already bearing much of a sect's grandeur.
Now, however, only shattered walls remained, a wasteland of rubble and scorched earth.
Several days had passed, and the smoke and dust had long since dispersed, but a thick smell of burning and blood still hung in the air.
To the northwest of the demonic den, the terrain rose higher, and the ruined walls formed a small elevation.
At that moment, two figures appeared there.
Both figures seemed barely present, their faces indistinct. Without a special Pupil Technique, it would probably have been easy to overlook them. One crouched on the ground, pinching up a little scorched soil between his fingertips.
"This really is outrageous."
The mountain breeze blew, and the man standing tugged slightly at his Face Covering, seemingly uncomfortable with the horrifying carnage here. They had actually seen quite a few such scenes, but the vast majority had resulted from invasions by the Demon Ruins.
This time, the ones whose sect had been so brutally exterminated were actually Demon Ruins Cultivators?
For some reason, it felt strangely incongruous.
After adjusting it many times and still feeling tightness in his chest and short of breath, he simply took off his Face Covering.
It revealed a face full of heroic spirit.
"Whew."
Frowning, he lightly nudged the crouching man with his foot.
"Brother, are we sure we came to the right place?"
Zhu Lifang asked, "I remember we were only here a few days ago..."
Indeed, back then, the sect's construction had still presented a scene of "thriving prosperity."
After the Clear-Talk Assembly ended, the Zhu Family Brothers should originally have returned to report to the Hidden