It was a scene akin to the apocalypse.
The sky was enveloped in flames, and hordes of beasts continuously swooped down.
Countless people rushed toward the battlefield one after another.
A sea of fire surged forward, vast and boundless, painting the earth a uniform yellow.
"Hold it off!"
Immortals from across the world resisted the great calamity in the sky, their spells shining brightly against the wind.
However, these spells shattered upon contact with the vast sea of fire, leaving no mark behind.
The scorching flames descended from the sky, engulfing the earth, and devouring everything; all life perished amidst struggles.
Sun Wukong wanted to rescue the humans struggling in the flames, but his hand passed through the flames, unable to grasp anything.
"These are all illusions."
Sun Wukong thought to himself.
This was an event that had already transpired, a history lingering deep within the soul of Fu Xi.
