The gray wind blew through the gray desert, begging the question of whether people would soon start calling the Greenhair Badlands by a different name. After all, the sand was all gray now. As the wind blew, it rapidly intensified to the point of being a storm. It was a tempest containing godly might, and as it spread, it imparted the sensation that it would never die down. Even the canopy of heaven changed. It was no longer filled with red light. It was as if the entire desert had been separated out of the Moonrite Region.2

For anyone outside, entering the desert would now be a very deadly risk. Even the pontiff from the Red Moon Cathedral didn’t dare to stay inside. Bedraggled and broken-down, he had no choice but to fall back. He had even lost some of his godheralds in the retreat.1

Once outside the desert, the cathedral cultivators looked back into the storm.0

“This place is cut off from the outside now.”0

“The gray storm isn’t going away. It’s preventing anyone from going in.”0

“The people inside can leave, but people on the outside have to deal with that storm if they want to go in.”1

The Red Moon Cathedral finally had no choice but to label the place a forbidden region and leave it be.6

The people already inside of the gray...0