"Chu Xianren?"
Wei Cheng murmured to himself, but the utterance of these three characters alone was enough to make his mind drift. He felt as if he was surrounded by an endless sea of blood, like a small insect clinging onto a leaf to avoid falling into the bloody waves.
Above him was a sky engulfed in blood-red clouds, with the continuous sounds of explosive demonic thunder echoing around him. The sky was being torn apart by bizarre streaks of lightning. Following the trajectory of the lightning, he could see a pale face floating in the blood clouds.
An overwhelming sense of despair and death had enveloped him. Wei Cheng wanted to look away but found himself unable to do so.
Suddenly, the pale face opened its eyes with pupils as dark as bottomless abysses, seemingly ready to drag Wei Cheng's soul into it.
Simultaneously, a mournful voice echoed behind him.
"I heard you were looking for me?"
