At the end of the earth and sky of the Nine Heavens, an expanse of desolation, without Qingshan, without green water, even the sky is ink-green, as if a strange world has arrived.
A few auroras, extremely large, hang at the end of the sky, indescribable feelings.
Chen Pingping trudged forward, embarking on a lonely journey.
In this moment, he truly understood the feeling of those who came before, the Great Emperor's life, endlessly moving forward, accompanied by loneliness and vastness, carrying the hope and future of the Human Clan.
A solitary road.
A solitary battlefield.
The path ahead is unknown and dangerous, regardless of what he encounters, he will face it alone.
Joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness will also be endured alone.
This feeling is terrible.
Of course, he is a transmigrator, curiosity at times far surpasses the so-called battles.
The survival of the race isn't very strongly felt either.
Humans are selfish.
