[Deformation of flesh and blood, pollution of knowledge, horror, exciting fighting, slightly fast pace] [Not a novice, not an invincible, a chapter of pain]
The Nine Nethers are shattered, and the Heavenly Dao is bleeding.
In the apocalypse, when the scars of heaven continue to expand, is spiritual practice salvation or slow suicide?
In this world polluted by ancient blood:
The moonlight was as pale as bone powder, illuminating the monks' twisted and alienated limbs;
The Hanging Blood City stands as high as a tumor, squeezing Yinfu technology to maintain its decadent rule;
Deep in the earth's veins, the dismembered corpses of old gods and demons are slowly resurrecting as the scars of heaven expand...
"Ascension? Haha... That's just becoming a blood meal on the old god's table!"
When Yan Wuhuan tore through the layers of lies and glimpsed the truth of this desperate reincarnation, he stroked the restless bronze coffin patterns on his body, and his sinister smile echoed through the underworld:
"Since there is no way... Then... Ask for a real way to survive for my human race."
