Six months drifted by.
Although it was the height of summer, on the Demon Suppression Islands, a heavy snow had already been falling for several weeks.
The Cultivators on the islands were not surprised by this heavy snowfall.
The Demon Suppression Islands stood in this sea, fending off invasions from Demon Beasts. The bitter war had raged for years, yet there was no end in sight.
But after so many years of bitter fighting, the number of casualties and deaths—be it among the Vast Sea Cultivators or the Demon Beasts—had likely reached an unimaginably colossal figure.
The entire sea region, stretching for thousands of miles, was perpetually stained with gore. As the Blood Qi steamed upward, the sky itself was often a shade of blood-red.
Low Tier Demon Beasts were unintelligent and naturally drawn to the scent of blood. Such a thick, pervasive stain of gore would, of course, ceaselessly attract more of them to gather.
