At midnight, Ye Feng arrived at Lion Peak. A breeze swept by, lifting his hair high, and his entire being seemed to flutter with the wind.
He sat cross-legged, and as he recited cultivation techniques, he was immersed in a wondrous state.
This state persisted until the early hours of the morning, when a change occurred. As raindrops began to fall, making soft sounds, he opened his eyes, a glint of clarity flashing within them, and in a flash, he disappeared.
In the vast star river, with ruins everywhere, fierce winds capable of poisoning the average cultivator surged from all directions.
The dry walls of the star river crumbled under the sweeping wind, turning into clumps of black powder.
Ye Feng, enveloped in golden light, flew swiftly from the front. His eyes shot like lightning ahead, and with a slight movement of his feet, he was already crossing a section of the star river land.
