Time slipped away quietly.
Half an hour had passed with an intense battle raging on.
The battlefield was now riddled with holes, endless corpses of Demonic Beasts piled up like mountains.
The fresh blood of Demonic Beasts, mixed with that of Human Cultivators, pooled into a long river, slowly flowing towards the lower grounds.
In some depressions, the blood collected into pools, eventually cooling into a sticky substance, creating a nauseating sight.
Looking down from the sky, describing the scene as a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood was by no means an exaggeration.
At this moment, at the highest point of the battlefield, Zhu Yun was locked in fierce combat with the Diyan Tiger.
After over ten rounds of brutal fighting,
The Diyan Tiger was now covered in numerous wounds, missing a limb, its tail gone, and a fist-sized hole in its neck was still oozing crimson blood.