The rain had stopped.
The clouds had not completely dispersed, the sky was still gloomy, with a hint of chilliness.
A round bloody moon hung high above the Xuan Qiong, plunging the entire scene into silence. The people, against the backdrop of the blood moon, looked like devout believers.
Meanwhile, the power on Han Ye was dissipating rapidly. His Immovable Rakshasa Body morphed to its pale, thin self, and his strength quickly plunged to the level of the Golden Core.
The Golden Core, not yet fully repaired, could not sustain the use of its Form for long.
Beyond this, a strong sense of weakness, swept through his body from inside out. The magic power in his Qi Sea and meridians vanished in an instant.
"Whoosh."
Han Ye couldn't continue flying and slowly descended from mid-air, landing next to a wide Ancient River.
The Ancient River was filled with mist, its flow was gentle, and there seemed to be no other bank visible, as if standing by the sea.
