Fueled by this ferocity, Kuafu stomped across the earth like thunder, sending clouds of dust billowing as he gave chase. The Golden Crows had suffered a heavy loss and no longer dared entangle themselves with him. They desperately climbed higher, rushing straight toward the nearest place where they could roost.
Kuafu's aptitude was mediocre, his bloodline already thin, and his cultivation too shallow. His divine abilities were not yet complete, and the two yellow serpents in his hands had yet to become dragons, leaving him unable to fly or carry himself through the air. He could only sink into the earth veins and borrow the power of earth to run wildly. A vast expanse of yellow dust churned like an enraged dragon leaping through the air. A giant stood atop its head, waving his staff and cursing the demon race without pause. He cursed the Golden Crows until their flames of fury soared, yet they could do nothing to him.
The Primordial World was vast and boundless. Since the sun had to travel from east to west, a single journey took countless tribulations and ages. Thus, one day was actually equivalent to an entire year in later generations. Light stretched on without end, and day and night were difficult to distinguish.
After chasing them for a long time, Kuafu's throat cracked dry as scorched earth. Passing the Yellow River and the Wei River, he bent down and drank wildly. The two great rivers instantly ran dry, their water veins exhausted and their riverbeds exposed. Before his breathing had steadied, his legs already felt filled with lead, yet he still clenched his teeth and dragged his loosening muscles and bones toward the legendary great marsh in the north. Who could have known that, with a thousand li still between him and