Clang—
The twisted fierce pollution echoed in He Ao's mind, surrounded by intense roars and sounds of battle.
In that moment, He Ao seemed to return to an era lost to time, to the battlefield of slaughter.
He 'traveled across' history, pulling out this longsword.
The longsword grated against the remnants and armor, emitting a sharp sound.
The silver longsword, hovering between illusion and reality, slowly rose in He Ao's field of view.
One centimeter, two centimeters, three centimeters.
When the sword was pulled out to five centimeters, the surrounding howls vanished again, drifting snowflakes descended from Heaven, and the world fell into silence once more.
The sword got stuck again.
He Ao looked up, gazing around the Firmament.
In the indistinct moment, his field of view seemed to transcend the skies and clouds, glimpsing some hazy brilliance at the world's edge.
He had not seen these things before.
