A grand palace forged entirely from bronze stood on this barren land.
Countless cultivators, shackled and carrying massive bluestones, toiled endlessly under the supervision of overseers.
"Slap."
Viciously cracking the whip across a cultivator lying on the ground, the overseer, with a fierce expression, shouted angrily, "Damn it, are you slacking off?"
"Get up, get up!"
The overseer, filled with rage, continually lashed the cultivator on the ground with a black whip, the barbs on the whip leaving bloody welts on the cultivator's body, some sections even tearing off bloody chunks, looking quite gruesome.
"Enough, he's dead!"
The overseer paused for a moment, approached and kicked the body, then checked with his divine soul, spitting disdainfully, "What a waste!"
