On the cliff.
Xia Ji looked at the Fog Sea.
He roughly understood that the Dharma Plane was the ceiling of human power.
Under this ceiling, magical artifacts, mystic arrays, and other external objects were the main objects.
Unless he broke through this ceiling, his individual cultivation would always be poor.
Although he had not encountered it yet, disasters were born in the light, and death was born in ignorance. If one did not think far ahead, there would be immediate worries. He had to be prepared for danger in times of peace.
Martial arts were like the ancient martial arts and even killing techniques of his previous life, and spiritual artifacts were like guns, ammunition, and even nuclear bombs. No matter how strong ancient martial arts were, could they be stronger than missiles?
