Its power is majestic, like the weeping of the sea and the singing of the whale.
Although he hadn't heard it many times in total, Fu Qian was confident in his judgment.
When a True God roars like a Giant Dragon, there's just a tinge of sorrow.
Looking again, not a single Dragon Scale was visible anywhere.
Indeed, amidst the crimson surges, many things emerged, but they appeared dirty and chaotic, seemingly unrelated to such legendary creatures.
For example, even the previously mentioned throne seemed to be soaked in blood, with more than half of it covered in swaying fleshy tendrils.
Honestly, this scene was somewhat familiar.
At that moment, the large mouth on his chest continued to tear at the crimson frenzy.
Squinting as he gazed ahead, Fu Qian sighed while feeling the stickiness beneath his feet and the strange smell at the tip of his nose.
