Whipping winds howled around Theron. Each gust felt like a lash against his skin, a streaking blade just barely grazing him.
This might have been a sanctuary for Wind Mancers, but to him, and probably most others, it was a hell house.
Standing tall on a pillar, looking ahead to the others littered around, and down toward the endless abyss below, Theron was quite calm.
The so-called abyss was nothing but a trick of the mind. In reality, the drop was maybe ten meters at most. At their cultivation level, it was nothing. With the harsh winds, a few broken bones were possible.
Death was a remote possibility if you hit your head on the way down in the right way, but it was so unlikely that it wasn't worth considering.
The reason it looked as though an abyss swallowed the bottom of the thin, swaying pillars was a formation designed to trick the eyes.
