The sky in the Netherworld is eternally dim.
The Qing Jiao Army hurried across the grey-black plains.
On the back of the black-blood paperman horse, Luo Si paused from healing his wounds, opened his eyes, and looked toward the horizon.
A hint of doubt flashed across his eyes.
"That's the Water Burial Valley!" Ning Zhuo knew the location, as Sun Lingtong had been there before, but was intercepted nearby.
Ning Zhuo also showed a look of confusion—the scene before him was very different from his memory.
Thick black-grey mist rose from the valley, coalescing into a heavy, oppressive leaden cloud at low altitudes.
Two black hills looked like the skeletal remains of crouching giant beasts.
Ning Zhuo frowned, "Why do these two black hills seem much lower than I remember?"
The hills seemed like two giant beasts confronting each other, with a narrow yet unfathomable chasm torn in between—the entrance to the Water Burial Valley.
