The once tranquil Nether River began to churn, unleashing towering waves that reached dozens of feet high.
The Evil God and the endless dark ghosts were about to reach Fang Yang, their filthy presence filled with malice in their eyes, some even starting to look smug.
They thought that in the next moment, they would witness the scene of Fang Yang's tragic death.
However, this was destined to be in vain.
The mirror had already shattered, like a black lightning bolt stretching across the void, and the illusion of the Mountain and Sea began to break into pieces and disappeared completely, as if it had never existed.
Not long after, the surroundings seemed to have finally regained peace.
Fang Yang slowly opened his eyes to a faint fragrance soothing his heart and soul. He looked around and saw Wen Chanyi, filled with worry, standing at his side, her tears like dew, her fair and delicate skin pressing tightly against him.
