The walls weren’t black, either, but as golden as the ground, almost like they contained the mineral itself. Yang Qi flew over and touched the wall, trying to figure out if he could perhaps extract the gold.

Unfortunately, the wall was incredibly tough; no amount of power seemed to do anything to it. He got a strange sensation from the wall, as though it were created from the preheaven blood of a god of gold. If someone who cultivated sword energy were able to make a weapon from this stuff, it would definitely help them to advance by leaps and bounds. However, considering he had no way to extract the material, it was pointless to waste time.

“Where exactly are we?” he murmured. The golden path seemed to thrum with preheaven sword energy, and he could just barely make out sounds which resembled screaming, fighting, and dying.

As for the air, it seemed to weigh down with an oppressive energy. Yang Qi inhaled, and...

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