At dawn, just as the first ray of sunshine shot out from the east, the remote mountains were still shrouded in endless morning fog. The mountain fog was thick and dense, and it covered the mountains, lakes and trees, causing everything to appear as a blur. The fog lingered on without dispersing, causing the remote mountain's weather to become especially cold.
Shrouded in the morning fog, inside a modest-sized room in the Desolate race's palace.
Jiang Xiaorou was sitting in front of a bronze mirror. She was dressed in a thick red long robe, and was slowly combing her hair.
The mirror reflected her beautiful face, and the bit of cinnabar in the middle of her eyebrows was beautiful but brought with it a tinge of sadness.
As Jiang Xiaorou looked at the mirror, her eyes were still the replaying scenes inside the meeting hall yesterday. The Human race's geniuses looked at her with hatred, while the Sanctuary Island couple gave her a look of pity...
Jiang Xiaorou did not mind too much about the Human race.
But for the Desolate race, she couldn't not mind.
To protect her, it required the entire Desolate race to fight the Black-armored Demon God to the death. In the words of the Human race, that was equivalent to severing heritage and the flames of life.
The Black-armored Demon God seemed to be able to extract the powers of the strong by killing them, and as a result strengthen himself. If that was the case, the more experts killed by him, the more terrible the situation would become.
Jiang Xiaorou sat in the empty room with a deep sense of loneliness.
She was like a person cursed by the Heavens.
At this moment, the door was pushed open, as Jiang Xiaorou's mother walked in.
She did not say a word, and neither did Jiang Xiaorou turn back.
She quietly took over the comb in Jiang Xiaorou's hand, and while holding a tiny lock of Jiang Xiaorou's hair, she began combing her hair bit by bit.
Her motions were very slow and the comb silently glided down her smooth, black hair. As the strands of hair split into tracks after tracks, they resembled stripes of black silk.
"Mother...I want to go to the divine bone altar." Jiang Xiaorou, who had her back towards her mother, suddenly spoke. Her voice was soft, but it caused the former Desolate Queen's hands to tremble. She let go of the comb which glided down Jiang Xiaorou's smooth hair like flowing water till it dropped to the floor.
Pa, the walnut wood comb dropped to the floor with a very soft sound, but it sounded very clear in this quiet room.
The Desolate race's divine bone altar was a place used by the Desolate race for worshiping and sacrifice.
For worshiping, Jiang Xiaorou had done it once, and from that time, she was recognized by the Sacred Spirit.
As for sacrifice...that was to let the sacrificed person give all their blood and life, as well as their soul for sacrifice. With that, the outcome could be imagined.
Jiang Xiaorou's wish to go to the divine bone altar was naturally not for worship.
She had been eyed by the Black-armored Demon God, and had nowhere to go. Even if she committed suicide, her corpse might still be found by the Black-armored Demon God. She did not know if this might lead to terrible consequences.
Since she was dying, she might as well die more thoroughly. By sacrificing all her soul, blood and life, the Black-armored Demon God would receive nothing.