[Eastern Gaowu·Cross-region Reincarnation·Group Redemption·Fateful Showdown] In the Xuanyuan Continent, Yin and Yang are out of balance, foreign races have caused disasters, and Nirvana is rampant.
Ren Yankan is searching for his best friend Liang Changyan who has been missing for ten years. He enters another world, joins the Gotei Division and wields a sword. He travels across the nine realms, makes friends, and uncovers the layers of truth about the Trans-realms, the Destroyers and the ancient catastrophes.
As everyone knows, endless reincarnation has already become a doomed situation.
Strange people are behind the scenes, laying out the overall situation for a thousand years;
The companions protect each other with their lives and go on the bloody journey together.
Until that day——
Vast coercion swept across the surrounding areas, and the world-destroying shock wave crashed down.
Ren Yanquan concentrated all the remaining energy in his body, pressed the secret formula to urge the move, and used all his remaining strength to strike out with the final sword.
The black ink war blade couldn't bear the overload, it cracked inch by inch, and scattered light flew.
There was a sweet taste in his throat, blood foam overflowed from the corners of his lips, and he suddenly turned around and roared:
"Xiang Yue, run!"
Above the void, the enemy looked down from a high position, his voice as cold as frost:
"The hunting game is over."
He raised his fingertips lightly, and the sky roared. The giant meteorite suddenly solidified, and with the force of destruction, it fell through the air towards Xiang Yue, who was standing frozen on the spot.
The overwhelming pressure locked all sides, and fear penetrated his bones and blood, making Xiang Yue unable to move.
At the critical moment, a blood-stained figure suddenly swept in front of him, blocking the falling force from the sky for him.
"Brother Yan!" Xiang Yue's pupils shrank suddenly and his voice trembled, "You can't block this blow! Leave quickly!"
Ren Yanquan tilted his head slightly, his eyes were calm and gentle, and he wrote softly:
"I'm the older brother."
One glance is worth thousands of years.
He raised his eyes to look at the falling meteorite and decided to initiate the technique:
"The last dance—time…stood still!
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