Zhuqiu, a mountainous region shrouded in fog all year round.
It remains dark and sunless, as sunlight can never penetrate that fog.
The roads in Zhuqiu are chaotic, without any path leading anywhere, nor are there any climbable steps. Anyone entering here, be they man or beast, regardless of their forr glory or humble status, will be trapped here forever.
Many skilled Demon Beasts and masters of the Human Race have attempted to enter this area, hoping to find the secret treasure of the legendary Sky Witch Clan.
But no one has ever left this place, not a single person.
Shalman, betrayed by Lie Sisi, entered Zhuqiu and road the endless hills like a ghostly apparition.
Here, the hills are nurous, each not very tall, resembling mounds of graves that no one worships.
Chilly winds blow from all directions, and the remains of both beasts and humans are scattered everywhere.
As the bodies decay, yellow corpse water gathers to form rivers that resemble streams of the Netherworld.
Phosphorescent blue flas erge from the beast bones and human remains, flickering like playful little spirits.
The dark sky, foul air, and wailing winds make Zhuqiu seem like a lody composed by the Grim Reaper. The longer one stays here, the more their life force unknowingly drains away.
Suddenly, a pair of dry skeletal hands erged from the ground, grabbing Shalman’s foot.
Shalman raised the staff blade she held, without furrowing her brow, and swung down.
As the staff blade sliced through the air, a golden Dark Light appeared, tearing the air with a screech; even before the blade reached, its edge was like thunder and lightning.
The skeletal hands were cut off at the base, falling to the ground and disintegrating into powder.
When the skeletal hands were shattered, a weak Dark Power was absorbed into Shalman’s body through the staff blade.
Having been trapped in Zhuqiu for several days, Shalman appeared not as the bony remains the outside world imagined, but rather her spirit was better than before.
Her eyes glead brightly, her steps swift as she quickly evaded ground attacks. Skeletal hands and hidden arrows, commonplace in Zhuqiu, had initially terrified Shalman half to death. Thankfully, relying on the natural acuity of a Cultivator, Shalman had escaped several tis unscathed.
"Phew, thankfully I have this staff blade," Shalman said, sitting cross-legged in a relatively safe area, wiping sweat off her forehead.
She stared at the staff blade in her hand, reminiscing about the mont she encountered it.
When she was first cast into Zhuqiu, surrounded by desolation and scars, Shalman could barely muster the strength to move.
Despite having nurous opportunities for honing skills with the July rcenary Team, usually she had teammates supporting her.
She had a strong backup, but this ti, she was alone.
As she walked, she realized Zhuqiu was like a natural labyrinth, one couldn’t escape without soone like Qian Luo, an Array Master, present.
Death and terror, along with endless roadways enveloped her, nearly driving Shalman to breakdown.
In such circumstances, hallucinations were inevitable, and Shalman was no exception.
But under extre dread, Shalman ignored wild thoughts, and couldn’t sleep through the night.
Until she was near fainting, for so reason, she rembered the mont right after her birth, surrounded by snakes, insects, rats, and ants.
She recalled the monts of fighting side by side with her comrades, and her mother’s sacrifice, granting her the precious chance to survive.
At that mont, Shalman suddenly felt as if she pierced through the fog, revealing the clear sky.
Vitality arose, and death miraculously vanished.
Shalman stood again, walking resolutely forward.
Weaving through tight spots, famished, she ca across a river.
In the center of the river’s path, a uniquely shaped staff blade caught Shalman’s attention.
This was the most terrifying river Shalman had ever seen.
The riverbed was completely dried up, not due to sun or wind.
Around the river, every spot accommodating a person was piled with corpses.
Most corpses were rotten and dried.
In the center of the corpses stood a mysteriously shaped staff blade, seemingly shrouded by a mystical aura.
The lower half of the staff blade was white jade-like, transparent and pure, its material unknown, resembling both jade and bone.
The upper half of the staff blade was a blood-red Scythe Moon Blade.
The ghostly flas around the river would steer clear of the staff blade.
Shalman was fascinated by the bizarre scene. Her body shivered with fear, yet her curiosity drove her to wonder what was special about that blade, attracting so many Dark Practitioners to enter Zhuqiu, relentlessly seeking after death.
Closer to the blade, fewer Dark Practitioners’ corpses lay, indicating many had vied for it in the past, rushing forward eagerly.
Sadly, none got close to the staff blade, for they died before reaching it.
No one could enter the range of the staff blade, as Shalman stood lost in thought. Intuitively, she knew this place was highly dangerous, best avoided swiftly. Yet her legs and eyes seed to lose control, staring at the staff blade, feeling a mystical force beckoning her, urging her forward.
Bewildered, she lifted her foot, unafraid of the mountain of corpses and sea of bones, approaching the staff blade step by step.
Until her fingertips trembled slightly, grasping the staff blade, a wonderful power accompanied by a clear voice surged into her body, flooding her mind.
A voice rang in her mind: "Dust to dust, soil to soil, fa and fortune are but fleeting clouds. I’ve waited millennia, finally awaiting you, my heir, the girl with Beastmaster blood. I bestow upon you the Witch Bone Staff Blade, crafted from my ribbone, accompanying for centuries, now awakened. Within the staff blade lies a set of Beast Taming Witch Formulas, all granted to you."
Shalman initially felt a deep-rooted terror, surrounded by nothing, yet hundreds of information flooded her mind and ears.
But soon, she realized the Bone Staff Blade ant her no harm. Instead, from this Bone Staff Blade, Shalman felt a warmth akin to her mother’s embrace.
Shalman gradually closed her eyes, the stench of the air and the mire of corpses beneath faded away.
As Magic Power entered her body, Shalman’s last tie to Four Symbols City vanished, causing her rit Ring’s value to reset, leading Yue Jinghua to mistakenly believe Shalman was dead.
Unaware, Shalman stumbled into inheriting the legacy of one of the Thirteen Sky Witches.
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