The Black Vortex was like the gaping maw of a giant beast, devouring the figures of intruders one after another.
The instant Lin Langtian led Yin Ruoshui and Helian Tieshan into the vortex, his vision went black, followed by a dizzying sensation of weightlessness.
The space around them twisted violently, as if an invisible giant hand were dragging them through endless darkness and void.
The feeling lasted for roughly a dozen breaths, and then, suddenly, solid ground was beneath their feet.
Lin Langtian opened his eyes, and the scene before him made him pause slightly.
This was an independent small world.
The sky was deep purple. There was no sun, nor any moon, only countless dark stars scattered across the dome above, giving off a dim glow that left the entire land half-lit and half-shadowed.
Those stars were not true stars, but energy nodes condensed by some Ancient Formation. Runes faintly flowed within them, releasing fluctuations that made one's heart tremble.
The land was a desolate plain. The ground was gray-black, covered in fine cracks like a dried-up riverbed.
The air was filled with an ancient, timeworn aura, the scent of ten thousand years of accumulation, carrying a faint trace of decay and desolation.
At the end of the plain, a massive mountain could faintly be seen. The entire mountain was pitch-black, towering into the clouds, its body covered in countless fine lines, as if carved by some mighty force.
At the peak of the mountain stood an ancient and simple palace. Its outline flickered in and out of view within the dim light, exuding an indescribable majesty and mystery.
And around the mountain flowed a broad river.
The river water was black, calm as a mirror, reflecting the dark stars in the sky.
There was not the slightest ripple