Along with the description of the voice, black silhouettes once again appeared in Li Yao's sea of consciousness. One could vaguely make out the bizarre shapes of people.
Some of them were wreathed in glamorous flames. Some of them had sharp limbs on their arms and back. Some of them had glamorous wings. Some of them had tentacles that could be both long and short at the same time, as if they had been combined with an octopus. Some of them seemed ordinary, but they could release sharp spiritual waves that congregated into sharp blades.
The super-powered Cultivators ran wild on the rusted desert with their superpowers. They killed each other, conquered broken towns, explored military bases that were full of weeds and shrubs, raised deadly beasts that were highly mutated, and even tried to refine the first batch of magical equipment with poor technology, which was to melt the powder of crystals into flames and metals to build the most primitive storm bolters.
