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Black clouds pressed down on the city, the wild wind came swiftly, the rain threatened to fall but held back, and the sky took on a somber grayish-yellow hue.
The carriage rolled down the street, and along the way, words of chatter surged into Song Cheng's ears.
"Kill the barbarians," "certain victory," and "Form Realm experts personally instructing" were phrases that drilled into his ears from all around.
People, outlined in plain white lines, varied in height, build, and size, rushed and ran wildly in the ink-like world, shouting and yelling as they hurried from one place to another.
"Steward, go through the Central City District and circle around near the Prefectural Yamen," the young man suddenly ordered.
The steward respectfully responded, "Yes, Young Master."
Inside the carriage, an uproar erupted.
"What nonsense? Young Master? What young master?" Old Master An exploded like a dog that had its tail stepped on.
