Kunlun Mountain, Death Valley.
The night was deep, black mist rolling, and the miasma within the valley was so thick it couldn't be dispersed, tendrils twining with a decaying scent.
Chen Nan, clad in a sky-blue Daoist robe, stepped into it.
The rubble beneath his feet was jagged, emanating a bone-chilling coldness, as if it could pierce through the marrow.
He walked step by step into the depths of the valley, surrounded by a silence broken only by the "rustle" of his feet on the stones.
The further he went, the denser the miasma grew, to the point where he could barely see his hand in front of his face.
Suddenly!
Chen Nan halted!
He looked down to see countless dark golden strange patterns on the ground that appeared without warning!
