Chapter 5187 Territory Usurped
- They flew on. Any beast foolish enough to charge from the clouds died beneath Jared’s thunder-swift strikes, and he pocketed seven inner cores—each far purer than those of the third heaven, ideal for future brews.
- Toward sunset, the horizon blazed rose-gold, sheathing the billows in molten light.
- Flaxseed stopped short, hanging in midair while his brows knit. “Something’s off. The energy in that valley feels twisted, as though someone bent the flow by force.”