The wind roared past Jiang Chen's ears like the wailing of ten thousand resentful spirits.
His body plunged through the vast emptiness, robes torn and stained with fresh crimson. The cliff face rushed upward beside him, while the earth below remained at a welcoming distance of at least several thousand meters.
Jiang Chen could not even glimpse the ground. He only knew that once he reached it, there would not even be a corpse left to bury, only a scarlet smear upon the rocks.
'Is this the limit of my path? Heh, to die as a feast for the crows before I even glimpse the edge of Immortality?'
The thought flashed through Jiang Chen's mind like a streak of cold lightning.
He could not allow himself to fall freely.
