Yang Yan's steps were shaky, swaying as he fell back to the ground, grabbing a handful of recently collected pills and swallowing them, hurriedly recovering the turbulent Blood Qi within his body.
After expending two full hours, Yang Yan's face was pale, but his injuries were mostly healed.
Yang Yan gazed deeply into the depths of the mist, then looked at the calm sea not far away, tidying up his somewhat disordered thoughts, cautiously releasing his Spiritual Sense, slowly advancing in the direction indicated by the map.
Yang Yan continued to proceed according to the map, and while walking he encountered remains of several cultivators.
The corpses were incomplete, clearly having undergone a fierce battle before dying, so he became even more vigilant.
After advancing for a while, Yang Yan paused in his tracks, staring at the ruined island ahead and fell into a momentary contemplation.
Not long ago, there was such an island, which had extremely formidable corpses.
