Lin Dong stepped through the ancient and heavy stone door, each step seemingly treading on the dust of ages.
After entering the interior of the building, the air was filled with an indescribable sense of oppression and unease.
A powerful sixth sense made Lin Dong aware of the hidden danger around him.
"The place where Ye Wuheng lived during his lifetime is actually so bizarre," Lin Dong thought to himself with a rising sense of caution.
He firmly gripped the long sword in his hand, the tip trembling slightly, as if the Yangxin Sword also sensed something.
As he delved deeper into the mansion, the surrounding light gradually dimmed, with only the faint blue glow of the fluorescent stones embedded in the walls adding a touch of eeriness to the dim corridor.
Lin Dong's blood, surprisingly, began to flow a little faster involuntarily.
He could feel a looming crisis approaching, a warning from the depths of his bloodline, compelling him to heighten his vigilance to the maximum.
