Along with the light, perception also vanished.
Cultivators had long been accustomed to using their Divine Sense to probe their surroundings; to be without Divine Sense for a Cultivator was more agonizing than a mortal being struck blind.
Immured in such darkness, they dared not move rashly—after all, who knew what dangers lurked nearby?
They even spontaneously grabbed onto each other's sleeves and used their mana to form ropes, ensuring that they wouldn't be separated by some sudden force.
Being alone in such an environment was extremely unsafe.
Song He naturally did the same.
However, his situation was a bit special.
Within the Prism of Refraction on his wrist, the light of Morning Dew flickered gently; although it looked like a magic artifact on the verge of collapse due to lack of spirit Qi, there was still a bit of light.
