Li Xuanfeng and Li Qinghong rode the wind and descended; smoke and dust billowed atop the mountain, frantic and bewildered monks scurried around, many natives furiously digging through the ruins, their expressions panicked, as if the sky had collapsed and the earth split.
A building atop the island's peak had caved in, and at the very center, amidst the blue stone rubble, one could vaguely make out the original outline of a grand temple; the ground was covered in fresh blood, brilliantly crimson and shocking.
Upon seeing the two descend, these monks seemed to realize something, wailing all about, they rushed toward the central hall of the temple.
Li Qinghong swept across with her Spiritual Sense and spoke:
"Uncle, the Qi within this blood is thick with Spirit Mechanism. Such quantity, yet it's impossible for it to be cultivators' blood… This must be from certain Blood Pools… refined through spell rituals."
