The ninth day.
The number nine often symbolizes a cycle.
As the day ended, the scorching sun that had hung high above the Desert Sea for nine days at last began its slow descent.
As if an eternal night were falling, the world was plunged into a pitch-blackness where one could not see their hand in front of their face. Between heaven and earth, the only visible light came from the brilliant flashes of Magic Techniques amid the bloody slaughter.
Within the boundless darkness, the bloody path across the Desert Sea, carved out over several days of brutal combat, now stretched another thousand miles from south to north, deeper into the unknown wastes.
But Chu Mu's situation remained largely unchanged.
He was still facing an endless Sand-tailed Scorpion Tide, still locked in a ceaseless slaughter.
Perhaps the only saving grace was that, so far, aside from the endless Sand-tailed Scorpion Tide, nothing had appeared that Chu Mu was utterly powerless to resist.
