As the sandstorm drew near, the spectators finally realized how tall it was.
Initially just a yellow line on the horizon, it turned into a yellow band, then a yellow wall. By the time it was less than a hundred meters away, it had become a yellow curtain, and eventually, it completely obscured the sky.
The oppressive force was overwhelming.
A hammer made of sand and dust brutally struck the hearts of the spectators.
The exaggerated language in the barrage of comments also significantly decreased. Joking was one thing, but the immediate presence of the storm was unavoidably worrisome.
With his back to the sandstorm, Bi Fang curled up under the camel, feeling the wind above him growing stronger. The whistling of the air slicing through seemed like someone yelling into his ears, causing his eardrums to tremble incessantly as if they might burst.
The sand, relentless and invasive, forced Bi Fang to tightly close his eyes.
