Suddenly.
Another looming, massive, lifeless black mountain appeared, right in front of Fang Chuan Sword.
It was just as unexpected, appearing bizarrely like the handiwork of a Demon God.
Upon its appearance, the black divine light was akin to a glow of death, casting its reflection upon Fang Chuan Sword's face.
Fang Chuan Sword's face was pale as a ghost, his eyes shrouded in darkness, filled solely with horror as he stared at the black mountain before him, feeling as though it opened a gigantic mouth capable of devouring everything.
Danger!
The danger of death had arrived!
So clear, as clear as Fang Chuan Sword could feel every strand of hair standing on end.
Escape!
In his mind, there was only one thought left—forgetting about using his sword to defend, or employing treasures to guard himself, and other means he usually favored during battles. None came to his mind, as instinct told him they were useless and would lead to death.
