Five thousand miles deep.
It was still the South Sea Dragon Palace, yet the atmosphere was starkly different, entirely devoid of celebratory festivity; the stench of blood permeated the air.
Human-head lanterns hung from the eaves, and the windowpanes were crafted from dried human skin.
Flickering ghost fires floated about, and the ground was littered with various bones, some bearing gnaw marks on their surfaces, sending chills down one's spine.
Within the vast mansion, not even half a silhouette of a merfolk could be seen.
The South Sea Dragon Palace was enveloped in utter dead silence.
Only the guest hall remained brightly lit, where a hundred or so figures sat together, raising their cups and exchanging pleasantries, projecting a façade of revelry.
"Bi Hengguang, you've truly got an impressive liquor tolerance—downing a thousand cups yet remaining unfazed!"
"Not at all, Chen Yun, there's no need for you to toast me; it would seem I should be the one to toast you instead."
