On the ruins of Black Abyss Valley, the corpses have been cleared away, and the scattered fragments of magical artifacts and storage rings have all been collected.

It took Chen Ping, Jiang Xuelan, Xuanzhenzi, and the young Taoist boy a whole day to gather all the valuable items on the battlefield into one place.

The supplies were piled up like a small mountain. Storage rings, storage bags, magical artifacts, elixirs, and spiritual materials from tens of thousands of corpses.

In addition to the fragments of broken divine artifacts left behind by the powerful gods who exploded and died, and the divine emperor’s authority of Jin Wuhao, which was broken and then repaired by time and space.

These resources, piled together, resemble a miniature treasure trove, reflecting a kaleidoscope of colors in the setting sun.

Xuanzhenzi squatted beside the pile of supplies, his eyes wide like copper bells, drool almost dripping from the corner of his mouth: “My goodness… so much stuff… In all my years, this is the first time I’ve seen such a rich spoils of war…”

The young Taoist priest squatted beside him, clutching half a broken jade pendant in his hand, tilting his head and asking, “Master, how much are these things worth?”