The Black Tortoise Calm Sea.
At this moment, it was as if even the howling sea wind had frozen, casting the entire sea into a deathly silence. All that remained was a massive fin, like the blade of a windmill, slicing through the ocean surface as it swiftly circled two islands. It belonged to the unknown Nascent Soul Great Demon that had devoured the old turtle.
The thick stench of blood overwhelmed the natural saltiness of the sea.
In just half a day, thirty percent of the nearly ten thousand Foundation Establishment Cultivators were dead. Even several Golden Core cultivators from both sides had fallen. The number of casualties was double the total number of cultivators who had fallen in the past century.
If the fighting were to continue, no one knew what the outcome would be.
How could the crowd not be terrified? Not be afraid? Not be filled with dread?
...
The island was a muddy mess, flooded by the high waters. Destruction was all the eye could see.
