In the Sorcerer world, the high sky was riddled with holes, and the degree of tearing was shocking.
It was no longer appropriate to describe it as teetering on the verge of collapse. It was more like it was hanging by a thread.
Every minute and every second, the sky seemed to be on the verge of collapsing.
The living beings on the ground looked up at the starry sky with deep worry on their faces. They knew that this catastrophe was inevitable.
No one was willing to sit still and wait for death. Therefore, some people fled into the deep mountains, some fled underground, and some entered the desert or isolated islands.
They were like a group of ants in a big pot, trying their best to find a place to hide from the disaster, but they didn't know that it was all in vain.
If the fire under the stove rose, no matter how well you hid, you couldn't escape the end of being burned to death.
