But when he saw the scene before him, a trace of anger rose uncontrollably from the depths of his heart.
In his memory, the swaying purple bamboos, ethereal mist, and serene tranquility of Purple Bamboo Mountain were now completely unrecognizable.
Among the mountains, the once lush purple bamboo had wilted and turned black in large patches or been completely cut down, replaced by dark red monstrous trees exuding a rancid stench.
The entire mountain was shrouded in a dense, blood-scented demonic aura, black and red mist rolling with faintly visible twisted runes and hanging bones.
On the mountain paths, one could even see some crude and brutal altars, with traces of uncoagulated blood and remains of living creatures, obviously used to practice some evil and vicious demonic skill.
The cultivators active on the mountain all had a cold aura and fierce looks, practicing demonic skills, turning what was a beautiful spiritual mountain into a foul demonic lair.
