"If you didn't come, I would have died here." Chen Luoyang looked at the black coffin that was about to crack open and said calmly.
Cheng Hui was confused.
Other than him and Chen Luoyang, there was no one else in the black coffin.
His tone was definitely not directed at the Supreme Martial Artist.
But the next moment, a faint sigh suddenly sounded from the black coffin.
Outside the black coffin, Ye Tianmo stopped.
The surface of the black coffin, which was already filled with cracks, suddenly revealed more thick ink-like fog.
The black coffin that was on the verge of collapse suddenly became intact.
Then, an ink-like mist swept up the black coffin and disappeared.
Ye Tianmo sneered as he reached into the black mist to grab the black coffin again.
But soon, his expression changed slightly and he withdrew his hand.
The surface of his palm had completely lost its moisture. It was like a dried corpse, but it also seemed to have decayed and withered.
