Inside the ancient battlefield.
It was a ruin that had long fallen into decay.
Broken walls and shattered blades stabbed into the black-blooded earth.
All around, bleached bones lay scattered; though their surfaces bore the marks of violent destruction, even after hundreds of thousands of years, the ravages of time hadn't touched them.
What realm had the owners of these bones reached before death?
And just how powerful were those who killed them?
The air still faintly bristled with both subtle and vast auras, every wisp testifying to the former glory and the ferocity of the battle fought here.
"Back then, the Mortal Realm, even as mighty as it was, still declined, its inheritance severed," the Netherworld King muttered, face grave as he surveyed the scene.
He didn't continue, since Song Xiao was here.
But just seeing how Red Ying and the others' faces turned somber, it was obvious they understood.
