Clang~
Clang~
At the end of the endless ruins at the mouth of the long street, a dull collision sound kept coming.
The sky was dim yellow, the fog drifting, and most of the main street paved with green stones was damaged. At the end of the ruins, however, two figures shrouded in blood mist staggered toward the long street.
The two walked side by side, with a half-withered, half-green vine as thick as an arm resting on their shoulders. Two yellow gourds hung from the vine, swaying and occasionally colliding, emitting a muffled sound.
This sound seemed to possess some sort of magic. As it reached Zhao Sheng's ears, he felt a tightness in his chest and shortness of breath, his blood boiling uncontrollably, almost bursting out of his body.
When they got closer, Zhao Sheng's heart trembled, and he could see their bizarre appearance clearly.
