Terror!
Extreme terror!
Yang Zhenshan was already exerting himself to fly rapidly, yet he could still feel the terrifying and scorching force pushing him from behind.
He didn't know how long he'd been flying until he felt the push from behind had weakened significantly. Only then did he glance backward.
That glance almost made Yang Zhenshan collapse.
All he saw was red gold flames, twelve figures bathed in those flames. Not to mention the air, even the space was twisted by burning.
The originally gray sky had now turned into an ink-black canvas.
It was a Void rift, no, not a rift, but a giant hole.
The red gold flames were sucked into the hole connecting the Void, condensing into a brilliant fire ring at the eerie black edge. The red gold flames and Void chaos wrestled at the edge, burning the space into constant tremors, emitting a groan from overwhelming pressure.
Yang Zhenshan's eyes nearly bulged out.
The sky had fallen!
The sky had truly fallen!
