Ji Jue's face had gradually become ashen and smeared with dirt.
He wiped his face, smelled it, that familiar scent.
Ashes...
These were Molten Furnace ashes!
He lifted his head and looked towards the pitch-black dome above.
Within Jian Yuan's workshop, all the craftsman's furnaces' spent ashes had been sent here.
It was common to see strands and threads of ash, but after so many years, such a scale of ash accumulation from countless smelting and creations had embedded an atmosphere that became vast and magnificent.
Suffocating.
"Ji Jue, do you know why craftsmen are obsessed with flames?" Jian Yuan stood in front of a shattered furnace, waving his hand, an invisible power clearing the surrounding rubble.
