The sky of the Demon (Southern) Continent had never known a clear day.
Blood-brown miasma clouds piled layer upon layer, as thick as congealed, putrid gore, hanging eternally low to filter down a bleak, somber, turbid light.
The air was as dense as living mucus; every breath carried a burning, agonizing pain, filling the lungs with the pure, hyper-concentrated poison of tribulation qi—a brew of billions of accumulated sins and the vicious desires of the mortal world.
Chapter 363