"Is this the Barbarian Plains?" Mu Zi'ang questioned with confusion, well aware of the matters regarding the Barbarian Plains.
After all, each year, the grand winter hunt captivates the hearts of many cultivators in the Nanyuan Empire.
Sometimes, even experts from various families would be summoned to participate, and Mu Zi'ang himself had taken part in one such winter hunt.
During that hunt, the Nanyuan Empire achieved victory, though not without difficulty.
Blood flowed like rivers, and bones piled up like mountains; the massive bodies of the barbarians intertwined with the corpses of the empire's cultivators in a grotesque mesh of flesh and bone.
Even someone as stoic as Mu Zi'ang couldn't help but vomit repeatedly in such an environment, making it a deeply ingrained memory for him.
