"How goes the preparation?" Scorpion Shadow's crimson gaze fell upon Venomous Fang, his dual pincers whipping around, sending forth gusts of wind.
"My master, everything is prepared," Venomous Fang responded with utmost respect.
"Good! Well done! When the tribe revives, I will report to the Clan Leader and commend you, allowing you to enter the sacred land for cultivation!" Scorpion Shadow was overjoyed, swishing his poisonous stinger tail, his eyes revealing intense ecstasy. After hundreds of thousands of years of recuperation, they had finally seen this day.
Their tribe, known as the Sand Scorpion Clan, had once ruled a region 500,000 years ago, not at all inferior to the Light God's Divine Court—perhaps even surpassing it.
However, after offending powerful enemies, coupled with internal strife and natural disasters, their strength was greatly weakened. They had no choice but to retreat underground and live in darkness.