The icy pressure was like ten thousand years of black ice, instantly freezing Mo Lin's heart. The forces before him—a Great Sovereign ancestor twisted by corruption yet incomparably powerful, two Saint Grades, thirty-eight ordinary Heavenly Sovereigns, plus an endless ocean of monsters evolving madly—had gone beyond a "crisis." This was a complete, near-certain deathtrap!
More than half the power of the Plane Seed within him had already been expended. The Great Sovereign Fusion Body forcibly formed from his five avatars was powerful, but its duration was limited, and it consumed the very foundation of his main body.
Even if the fusion body could hold off the Corrupted Great Sovereign, what about the remaining two Saint Grades and thirty-eight Heavenly Sovereigns? Rely on his half-exhausted self, Ling Qingzhu, and Ling'er? That was pure fantasy!
Moreover, the most fatal problem was that the environment here was extremely unfavorable. The enemy were the "native inhabitants" of this dead world, embodiments of "corruption" and "malice." They were like fish in water here and could even evolve and grow stronger without end.
And them? Their recovery was blocked by the Pollution Field, and there was no way to replenish what they consumed. If this dragged on, death was their only path!
Should they run first? Could he take Ling Qingzhu and Ling'er, use the Plane Power that had not yet fully recovered but should be enough to briefly tear through the void of this dead plane, and forcibly teleport away from this "supercontinent" to another "supercontinent" on the Main Plane?
The thought flashed through Mo Lin's mind in an instant.
After all, as long as the green hills remained, there would always be firewood to burn. Besides, the Plane Embryo would not run away. This "supercontinent" had clearly become the nest of corrupted monsters, making