"Look, what is that?" Du Rong's voice seemed torn apart by sheer terror, bursting from the depths of his throat with a trembling verge of collapse. His eyes were wide as copper bells, filled with horror, his gaze seemingly nailed to something in the sky, as if his soul were locked in iron chains by the demons of the netherworld, every inch of him shaking. His body swayed slightly, his nerves strung as tight as a bowstring, ready to snap at any moment. This cry pierced like a sharp arrow into everyone's eardrums, making their hearts contract violently.
Everyone instinctively raised their heads to look at the sky. They saw that the black clouds were as thick as ink, almost solid, yet they were being savagely torn apart by a primordial, mighty force, as if a divine hand were ripping them open from the center like the parting of chaos at the beginning of the world. A figure drifted slowly out from the fissure, as though descending from some mysterious realm. A dreamlike halo swirled around the body, formed by the intertwining of starlight and pure spiritual energy, emitting a heart-palpitating aura as the light shifted. Wherever it passed, the clouds turned into fragile glaze, instantly shattering into drifting powder like a bizarre and terrifying snow, the debris gleaming with a cursed light under the sun like struggling souls. Although still far away, the invisible pressure emanating from that figure was like an ancient sacred mountain crushing down upon them, a physical weigh…
Chapter 110