Layers of yin earth and strong gales kept blowing. A blood-brown river rushed in from the sky and rushed into the yellow spring that ran through this world. It connected the vacuum hometown that had assimilated the netherworld to Luo Feng’s domain, filling it with dreamlike mist, inside the six layers of pitch-black dead peak that was formed by the most ancient turbid qi, Ghost Emperor Xuan Ming looked at the upstream of the blood-brown River quietly. His eyes were throbbing with angry flames.
Over the years, he had slowly lost control of Luo Feng and could only retreat to the training hall. It would not be long before he had to give up this layer completely and return to black prison.
