WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
Violent gales, stirred up by the immense magnetic field, raged across the desert, sweeping over everything like a powerful hurricane.
Directly across from Zhou Yuanjue, Beichuan Xuanxin's Ancient Japanese Clothing was whipped into a frenzy by the gale. His dark hair flew wildly, and even the skin on his face seemed to tremble and distort in the force of the hurricane-force wind.
But most terrifying of all was the crushing pressure.
The behemoth floating in the air, its wingspan stretching for hundreds of meters, stared down with enormous, piercing eyes. Its immense power made Beichuan Xuanxin experience a foreign sensation for the first time.
Insignificance.
It was the feeling of a frail human walking through a boundless desert, standing at the heart of a storm, or facing down a tidal wave.
All alone against the vast power of a natural disaster, against the might of nature itself.
