Bringing a knife on a rainy night, but no umbrella.
The most exquisite thing in this world is the pattering rain curtain, especially the desolate autumn rain. Under this stern atmosphere, it becomes even more solemn.
Driven by the autumn breeze, the rain threads slant slightly as they splash towards everyone. All around Mount Xianglu, people stand in silence, quietly watching the rainy dusk, watching the Flying Craft deep within the veil of rain.
An immense quietness, like a giant beast, devours everything, so peaceful, so incredibly strange.
It makes one's hair stand on end, sending chills down the spine.
At this moment, only a fool would not sense the approaching storm within this silence.
The eye of the storm is the Empress, and the Empress has inextricable ties with the Demon Head.
Therefore, the vortex's center naturally shifts towards the Demon Head.
Murderous intent is chillingly clear, desolate as it is, like a myriad of swords, ready to shred everything.
