"Rumble, rumble, rumble—"
That day, the isolated island shook violently, the tremors intense.
Ye Yin, leaning on a cane, looked towards the dense ink clouds dispersing in the far west, trembling from his fingers to his shoulders.
And in his hollow eye sockets, two lumps of flesh began to form.
As if an insect was biting, the itchy sensation kept coming, and he struggled to suppress the urge to scratch, enduring it with all his might.
Ye Yin realized that the senses he lost were being restored.
Soon, a sliver of light pierced through his pupils, like a stormy, gloomy world on the verge of breaking, once again emerged in his mind.
"I... regained my vision?"
Touching the warmth of his eyeballs, feeling their fullness, disbelief was written all over Ye Yin's face.
How was this possible? Hadn't he been consumed by a curse that even Ye Hanjun's Pure Beasts couldn't eradicate?
