Ning Zhuo's gaze began to disperse.
He wanted to grasp it!
Every insight was fresh and bright, like a spirit fruit just peeled, carrying sweet fragrance and water hues, making him unwilling to let go.
Buzz.
Buzz buzz buzz...
Countless small mirrors trembled violently simultaneously.
Ning Zhuo's complexion suddenly turned pale, his stomach churned, and his head spun as if someone had spun him around countless times. His shoulders twitched slightly, the light and shadow before his eyes overlapped, and wind, earth, and forging patterns intertwined into a soft yet heavy curtain of colors.
Ning Zhuo suddenly opened his eyes, bent down, supported the ground with his palm, and dug his fingertips into the earth.
He retched twice, large beads of cold sweat rolling down from his forehead, his cheeks lost their color, and his lips were pale as if almost transparent.
The second attempt failed!
This time there wasn't the pain of the previous one, but there was a deeper dizziness.
