The celestial beacon of descending wrath pierced every corner of the fractured minor plane.
From hundreds of miles away, the crimson-and-violet thunderhead burned like a lighthouse of absolute destruction, and with it came the insatiable, blinding greed of the surviving cultivators.
"A heavenly artifact has unsealed!"
"Move! If we reach there first, then there will be no one to obstruct us from getting the ultimate inheritance of Desolate Asura Realm!"
Cultivators across the barren obsidian plains abandoned their skirmishes, their medicine gathering, and their cautious scouting.
Like ravenous locusts drawn to a wildfire, hundreds of figures ignited their movement talismans, flying swords, and shadow-stepping arts, hurtling across the desolate wastes toward the blood-red beach.
A brutal, frenzied massacre followed in their wake.
