In the dead of night, darkness falls, and snowflakes are swirling.
The temperature drops, ice cold to the bone.
From the depths of the jungle, a series of low growls from demon beasts can be heard.
In the Nameless Valley, many loose cultivators cannot sleep.
Although their cultivation is low, they can still sense the pervasive atmosphere of killing intent in the air.
Each face is tense.
Even though there are defensive walls all around, none of them feel any sense of security.
If the demon beasts living in the Ten Thousand Beasts Mountain Range could be stopped by mere city walls, then the mortality rate of loose cultivators in the Ten Thousand Beasts Mountain Range wouldn't be so high.
"Roar!"
Just at this moment, a demon beast lets out an angry roar, a tiger roar shaking the heavens, sound waves rolling, causing the land to quake violently, as if a magnitude three or four earthquake.
It's like sounding the charge horn.
