On the withered branches, cold crows cast shadows, their icy eyes gazing indifferently at the vast, dark night.
"Halt."
At a wave of Ma Yinglong's hand, the vast troops suddenly stopped.
"Such a strong stench of blood."
Ma Yinglong frowned, this pungent smell of blood permeating the wild outskirts, carried on a taint of evil spirits.
At this moment, it was not only Ma Yinglong, but all the Demon Sealing Masters who were following him had also smelled the scent.
Wu Feng's expression looked somewhat unnatural. This was his first time encountering such a grand scheme; the pervasive smell of blood in the air causing his heart to palpitate, the color draining from his face.
The light in Wei Xianyu's eyes completely sunk.
After all, he was a veteran of the Demon Control Department, just a whiff of the scent allowed him to speculate that a fierce battle had taken place up ahead, with casualties reaching at least twenty individuals.