Upon the desolate land.
More than thirty Martial Arts Masters, who hadn't had a chance to make a move, stood dumbfounded.
The skeletal figure glowed with a faint golden light, sitting cross-legged in the yellow mud, while the blood tomb behind it exuded a strange sense of deathly silence,
and above its head.
The two-hundred-meter-tall Netherworld Dharma Aspect stood with majesty, solemnity, and gravity.
It just stood there.
As if holding the power over life and death, both compassionate and enraged.
"Escape!!"
The Martial Arts Masters scattered and fled chaotically.
Zhang Fusheng's hollow eye sockets just quietly gazed.
The Netherworld Dharma Aspect held the Bridge of Helplessness in one hand and reached out with the other, accompanied by a soft sigh:
"To flee? To disperse? Or to remain still?"
The fractured earth rolled, and the mud and stones suddenly bound the legs of the fleeing ones tightly,
