Hours passed.
The sky darkened, and the world was plunged into thick blackness before gradually lighting up again as the first rays of dawn pierced the horizon.
Bathed in the golden light of the rising sun, the bodies of Qingyi and Yuehan glowed softly, both immersed in a state of deep meditation.
All around them lay a veritable field of death.
Thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of giant insect carcasses were scattered across the ground, their limbs twisted, their shells cracked open, dark entrails oozing into the sodden earth.
Huoyue had slaughtered every one of them during the night, eliminating any creature that might pose a danger to the pair.
At that very moment, the flaming spirit stood in her human form, utterly exhausted.
Her sweat-soaked skin glistened in the rising sun, her clothes clinging to her body like a second skin, hugging every generous curve of that sculptural figure. Her stiff nipples pressed against the thin fabric, drawing two eager points.
