Dawn's light had just appeared, yet the daze of dark moon and blood light had not faded away.
The autumn breeze arose, and the leaves fell rustlingly.
The rustling leaves, drifting through this blood Qi-filled darkness, were as illusory as dancing ghostly shadows.
After the slaughter, the night was always silent.
Under the blood light, there was the dawn's first light, and then there was profound darkness. Before dawn arrived, this was the darkest moment.
Zhou Yan stood above these ruins, his gaze tranquil as he watched the shattered remnants of the mountaintop slowly coalesce once again, as if the Tao were combining in reincarnation, revealing a strange and eerie array atmosphere.
In the distance, many eyes were watching here, watching Zhou Yan. But when their gaze met Zhou Yan's lone wolf-like eyes, they all silently withdrew their sight.
Between heaven and Earth, it was still so quiet.
In just a moment, four True Spirit Level geniuses had died.
But no one came forward.
