Eye of the Wind Floating Island, Trading Hall.
The once spacious and grand hall was now crammed with hundreds of Trial Takers seeking refuge.
The stench of sweat, the reek of blood, and the pungent odor of cheap salves mingled with the carbon dioxide exhaled by hundreds of people, creating a suffocating miasma.
Everyone curled up as much as possible, each occupying a tiny patch of floor.
An occasional bump of limbs was followed by a few hushed curses.
"Zhang Hao, what time is it?"
Wang Meng leaned against a stone pillar, idly fiddling with the Alloy Giant Axe in his hands.
"Seriously, why hasn't the sun come up?"
He glanced up at the reinforced, pale-blue Energy Shield above the hall.
Beyond the Shield, the sky was still a despairing, leaden gray.
The viscous fog clung to the Shield's surface like a living creature, writhing in a way that made one's skin crawl.
