The voice was ethereal, carrying an ancient and aged aura.
"Seventy-two yuan, eight hundred and sixty-four meetings, twenty-five thousand nine hundred and twenty destinies, the final world, the examinee shall fall."
At the instant this voice rang out, Su Tu felt an excruciating headache as if his head was about to split open.
This pain was unlike anything Su Tu had ever experienced before; his body and heart and spirit were filled with intense pain in an instant.
Bean-sized sweat droplets began to seep continuously from his forehead, and in just one breath, Su Tu's entire body was drenched in sweat, as if he had been fished out of water.
"What's happening!"
Su Tu endured the intense pain as if he was on a mountain of knives, stretching out a hand to press against his temple, attempting to suppress himself with fresh strength.
But all this was in vain, this indescribable pain continued to rise higher and higher.
