This is early morning.
Above the blood-red starry sky, a fine drizzle began to fall from somewhere unknown.
Even standing on the Starry Battleship and looking up, one could feel those raindrops falling.
"It has begun..."
The Yin-Yang Blade Saint stretched out his hand, as if he could touch those raindrops: "From now on, until the day the rain entirely cools, the starry sky will continue raining; this is merely an omen."
"This is not the time to discuss this," Su Han spoke.
His eyes remained fixed on the distance.
In that direction, ten enormous figures stood mightily in the air.
Their enormous back spines were clearly visible to Su Han and others, even head-on.
They stared intently at the Starry Battleship with chilling eyes and hideous appearances, an indescribable murderous aura bursting forth from them.
"Though they are of the Eighth Level, equivalent to a human Sub-Immortal, they lack Immortal Artifacts."
