The black sea of clouds churned, and Chen Ji drifted within it for an unknown period before finally falling downward.
The black mist enveloped his body and descended, drawing a long black line across the sky, like a meteor dragging a long tail, plummeting onto the mountain peak.
Nothing here has changed.
The three-legged golden crow remains frozen in the sky, its tail wings showing no sign of tremor; the giant, like Kua Fu chasing the sun, continues to rush toward the battlefield, yet stopped in mid-stride.
This world resembles a vast, lonely amber, trapping everything for ten thousand years.
Chen Ji's gaze shifted, Xuanyuan leaned on the Royal Banner by the cliff's edge, speaking without turning his head, "You haven't visited for so long, I thought you wouldn't come again."
Chen Ji found a boulder to sit on and calmly explained, "I've remembered some things. I recalled the familiar blades of old, and also remembered that you killed me."
