The blood rain was not heavy, and its range was limited—falling precisely on the mountain slope where they stood. Quinn Shepherd watched as countless trees and flowers in the forest grew at an astonishing rate, the trees towering and lush, and the surrounding spiritual qi thickening to the point of nearly becoming tangible, floating in bands around the great trees.
Milky-white mist drifted among the flowers and grasses, making them appear unnaturally vibrant and tender.
After so much rain, the lakes, ditches, and rivers were overflowing. Now, in these waters, countless fish grew wildly, becoming monstrous like those of the Great Ruins—some stretching several zhang long. Some fish even sprouted legs, leaping onto the shore with mouths full of sharp teeth to catch the blood rain falling from the sky.
Some of the mountain's auspicious beasts swelled in size, their bodies erupting with bone spurs and branching out in bizarre, frightening shapes.
Even the merfolk beauties in the lake became enormous, their once-lovely faces now twisted and strange.
There was simply too much energy in the divine blood; it easily caused living things to grow into grotesque monsters. This growth was uncontrollable—the places that touched the blood rain first grew fastest, often becoming much larger than elsewhere!
Plants and insects were living too, and as the blood rain soaked them, the whole mountainside transformed into something like another Great Ruins.
To Quinn, it was the powerful yin-yang, four-images, and five-elements energy within the divine blood that had disrupted the internal balance of these life forms, causing their mutation—distinct from the Great Ruins.
The strange beasts of the Great Ruins mostly inherited god-demon bloodlines—a matter of genetics. But here, the monsters were mutated by absorbing the overwhelming power in divine blood.
"Which god has fallen? Was it the Dragon-Keeper Lord?" Cindy Mu whispered.
Outside the main hall, the mountains were draped in multicolored radiance and dense white mist, making the place look almost sacred. But if they stepped into the blood rain, they might mutate just like the rest of the mountain’s life.
However, as long as they didn’t get directly drenched by the blood rain, they could cultivate here and absorb the powerful divine energy. For any cultivator, this was truly a sacred training ground!
In terms of pure spiritual and divine energy, even the Everpeace Empire’s three great holy lands paled in comparison. After all, neither the Cult of the Heavenly Demon, Dao Gate, nor Great Thunderclap Temple could kill a god just to enrich their own sacred grounds.
“Granny originally lived in this remote backwater to trap Li Tianxing. She probably never imagined it would turn into a sacred training ground, did she?”
Quinn’s expression grew strange. He carefully caught a drop of divine blood with the Worryless Sword, examined it, and shook his head: “This isn’t the Dragon-Keeper Lord’s blood. His blood is dragon blood, but the power in this blood isn’t from dragon blood…”
His face suddenly grew even more peculiar. "I've seen this kind of divine blood before."
Quinn flicked his sword, letting the drop of divine blood run along the blade to its tip. With a twist of his wrist, the drop kept flowing along the sword, never falling off.
Suddenly, energy burst from the sword, and the drop of divine blood was activated—unleashing power like a divine ability. Its surging energy collided with Quinn’s own move, forcing him to stagger backward.
Quinn nodded solemnly. “I really have seen this kind of divine blood before. Over a year ago, when the snow disaster suddenly stopped, it was because the Imperial Preceptor of the Everpeace Empire found the god responsible and fought him. Both were badly wounded. I helped treat the Imperial Preceptor and saw the god’s blood—the energy in it is just like this drop.”
Back then, Quinn used a Sword Pill gifted by the Mute Smith to bridge the residual divine arts and god-blood in the Preceptor’s body, triggering their energies to annihilate each other and ease his wounds—only then could he heal the Imperial Preceptor.
But that Sword Pill was also ground down by the energy, shrinking considerably. The Mute Smith had given it to Quinn to help him deal with Village Chief and to teach him deeper artifact-refining techniques—Quinn had regretted losing it for quite some time.
Quinn remembered that time clearly, because Emperor Evan was also nearly killed by the old Dao Lord and the old Tathagata, and it was Quinn who treated him.
At that time, both the Imperial Preceptor and Emperor Evan had been reduced to cripples, utterly miserable. The Preceptor and his wife went into seclusion in a small valley—she was pregnant then.
"The god struck down by the Solar-Shooting God Cannon was the very one who brought the snow disaster!"
Quinn’s gaze was shadowed. He murmured, “It’s retribution—he deserved it. During the snow disaster, it was always the poor who suffered. The Everpeace Empire lost two or three tenths of its population, more deaths than any war before.”
The three from Little Jade Capital Sect said nothing.
When the snow disaster struck, the Imperial Preceptor went to Little Jade Capital Sect. Sage Qingyou tried to keep him and his wife there, hoping to halt reform. The immortals of Little Jade Capital believed the reforms of the Imperial Preceptor and Emperor Evan were the root cause of the snow disaster, and that only abandoning reform could avert further calamity.
Wang Moran and the others had heard of this.
The Imperial Preceptor was despondent for days, but eventually left Little Jade Capital Sect. Not long after, the snow disaster stopped. Sage Qingyou was troubled, telling them the Preceptor was determined to continue reform.
Back then, neither the Imperial Preceptor nor the immortals of Little Jade Capital Sect could have imagined things would come to this—no one foresaw a god’s downfall, especially the very god who brought disaster.