At the same time, at the Mountain Gate of the Corpse Refining Sect,
Beneath a gloomy, gray sky, a sinister, cold wind swept through the mountains, carrying a chill that seeped into one's very soul.
The grass and trees in the mountain forests had all taken on a grayish-white hue, weathered by the constant, biting wind.
If one were to stay in such a place for too long, their Divine Soul would likely be blown away or frozen solid.
However, for the Disciples of the Corpse Refining Sect, their Cultivation Techniques were well-suited to this environment. The sinister winds were even beneficial for refining and strengthening their corpses, so it mattered little to them.
On the mountain paths, figures wrapped tightly in cloaks could occasionally be seen walking.
The Mountain Gate was shrouded in gray clouds and mist, and within it, dim palaces and pavilions loomed indistinctly, like colossal coffins standing between heaven and earth.
