Yao Yuanhui and Yao Qing only now slowly made their way down.
As soon as they descended the mountain, they were greeted with an extremely strong smell of blood, which immediately made them cover their noses.
"What's that smell!?"
Yao Yuanhui couldn't help but complain.
"It's blood, such a thick smell of blood!" Yao Qing's face turned somewhat pale as he whispered.
He glanced at the Taoist ahead of them turning back, wanting to ask a question, but saw that he was staring blankly back at him, his complexion very unsightly, as if he might vomit at any moment.
"Fifty thousand troops, all gone."
On one side, a would-be apprentice who hadn't yet been accepted looked on with a blank stare, as if shocked to the point of foolishness.
"All gone... so many dead, so many...."
The two immediately felt a heaviness in their hearts and quickly looked down towards the foot of the mountain.
