Qin Xuan stood on the edge of the Blood Pool.
A pungent, putrid stench rushed toward his nose. Above the pool, a thick, bloody mist swirled, and ripples stirred across the surface, driven by gusts of wind.
Along the banks, cultivators stood in small groups, their gazes dim and wary as they watched the blood. They were cautious; those who had made it this far were not only capable but also calculating. Within the pool itself, many others sat cross-legged, circulating their energy to absorb the massive, blood-colored mist.
Chapter 281