Batian Martial Soul

The setting sun was like blood. The sun, about to sink below the horizon, scattered its scorching afterglow, dyeing the entire sky a shocking crimson, as if a huge wound had been ripped open in the sky, and the flowing blood had stained the heavens.

Beneath this nightmarish crimson, Ling Xiao and Shangguan Yue walked through the air, their figures light and agile, like two birds soaring through the sky.

Beneath my feet lies a vast, desolate, and lifeless Gobi Desert.

The gale, carrying fine sand and dust, swept across the jagged rocks like a pack of angry beasts.

The strange rocks are of various shapes; some resemble ferocious beasts with bared teeth and claws, while others stand like silent giants between heaven and earth.

The wind and sand collided with the strange rocks, making a wailing sound, as if this desolate land was weeping softly, telling of endless vicissitudes and sorrow.

"This is the mountain range where the Beast Army is stationed, the Beast Mountains."

Shangguan Yue spoke softly, her voice gentle and ethereal, yet remarkably clear amidst the howling sandstorm.

She wore a plain white dress, the hem of which fluttered freely in the wind, rustling in the sandstorm, like a white flower swaying in the gale. Despite the harsh environment, she still exuded an extraordinary and refined aura.

She slightly raised her arm, pointing to the distant, faintly visible city walls. Bathed in the setting sun, the city walls resembled a mysterious fortress standing in a dream.

"The person we're looking for lives in that ancient city."

Ling Xiao nodded slightly, his deep gaze slowly sweeping across the land.

He keenly sensed that the spiritual energy here was so thin it was suffocating, as if an invisible hand was ruthlessly drawing away and devouring the spiritual energy of this land.

The sparse spiritual energy, like a wisp of smoke, drifted faintly in the air.

Looking around, several withered cacti stood stubbornly on the sand dunes, their branches shriveled and twisted, like old people on their last legs, tormented by time and harsh environment.

Even so, they still hold on to this land, much like the creatures that barely survive on this land, struggling to live in dire straits.

At the same time, the demonic aura permeating the air was extremely thick and dense. That pungent and evil aura, like a tangible substance, weighed heavily on people's hearts, making them feel a chill.

The two landed slowly in front of the ancient city gate.

The city wall before me is mottled and uneven, with countless deep marks left by time, covered with cracks, like the wrinkles on the face of an old man who has experienced many vicissitudes.

The two ancient seal characters "Giant Beast" on the city gate are blurred and difficult to discern, and only their general outline can be vaguely seen, as if they have been washed away by the long river of history and lost their original clarity and sharpness.

At this moment, a caravan of merchants was slowly driving their camels out of the city.

The camels walked with heavy but steady steps, leaving a series of deep footprints on the sand.

Camel bells swayed gently in the wind, making a crisp and melodious sound that echoed across the vast Gobi Desert, as if they were the only source of life and vitality in this desolate land.

Upon entering the city, the streets appeared unusually deserted.

The buildings on both sides of the street are dilapidated, with loose bricks scattered all over the ground, as if telling the story of past prosperity and present desolation.

Only a few vendors were hawking their wares, their voices low and weak, sounding particularly faint in the empty streets.

An old woman selling pottery squatted in the corner, her body hunched over, as if the burdens of life weighed her down and she couldn't straighten up.

Her cloudy eyes stared blankly at the passersby, revealing a deep weariness and helplessness.

Her stall displayed some rough pottery jars, their surfaces uneven and their colors dull, clearly handmade and of poor craftsmanship.

One of the earthenware jars had a thin crack, yet it was still carefully placed in the most conspicuous spot, as if it were her last hope and solace in life.

"arrive."

Shangguan Yue's clear voice rang out as she slowly stopped in front of a three-story restaurant.

The restaurant stands on one side of the street, and its exterior looks a bit old.

The three characters "Zui Xian Ju" on the restaurant's signboard, which should have been bright and eye-catching, have now faded severely, with the edges of the strokes blurred, as if the years have stolen their former glory.

At the eaves, several wind chimes swayed gently in the wind, making a clear, tinkling sound that was particularly pleasant in the otherwise quiet street, yet also carried a hint of indescribable loneliness.

A figure was leaning against the stone steps next to the restaurant.

The man's clothes were tattered and worn, with his stained collar wide open, revealing his strong, bronze chest, which bore several scars that appeared out of nowhere.

An empty wine jar rolled haphazardly at his feet. The remaining wine had long since spilled out, leaving only a pungent, strong smell of alcohol mixed with the sweat emanating from his body, creating a nauseating odor.

His messy hair grew wildly like tangled weeds, and his face was covered with unkempt stubble, as if he hadn't groomed it in a long time.

Only his tightly pursed lips still faintly retained a trace of his former sharpness and determination, as if telling a story that was once unknown to others.

Upon seeing this, Shangguan Yue frowned slightly, but quickly regained her composure.

She stepped forward slowly, her steps light and graceful, her skirt gently brushing against the fallen leaves on the bluestone slab, making a soft rustling sound.

"Drunken Shadow?"

She called softly, her voice as gentle as a spring breeze.

However, the only response she received was the man's heavy snoring, echoing in the silent air.

A fly flew in from nowhere and landed steadily on the man's high nose. He was completely unaware of it, and just waved his hand unconsciously, as if driving away something annoying, but he was still immersed in his dream.

Ling Xiao stood quietly in place, his gaze sharp as he quickly swept over a jade pendant that was faintly visible at the man's waist.

Although the jade pendant was covered by a thick layer of dust and had lost its original luster, upon closer inspection, it could still be discerned that it was made of high-quality mutton fat jade, with a warm and delicate texture.

The jade pendant is carved with intricate and mysterious animal patterns, with smooth and powerful lines. This is the unique symbol of the Demon Sea's behemoth army, representing an unknown power and identity.

Shangguan Yue turned to look at Ling Xiao, her bright eyes filled with a question, as if asking Ling Xiao what to do next.

Ling Xiao's expression was cold and stern. With a slight movement of his right hand, a sharp sword aura suddenly condensed in his hand.

The sword light ripped through the oppressive air like lightning, carrying an unstoppable momentum, aiming straight for the drunkard's throat. Its speed was so fast that no one had time to react.

Just as the sword tip was about to touch the drunkard's skin, the seemingly unconscious drunkard suddenly opened his eyes.

Those eyes were clear as cold stars, flashing with a sharp and cold light; there was not a trace of drunkenness in them. (End of Chapter)