The Blood Ape hung upside down, while the great dragon lay prone.
One looked upside down, the other straight ahead; as they turned, they came face-to-face.
"Gulp!"
His Adam's apple bobbed, every hair stood on end, and his Golden Eyes trembled, almost unable to focus.
He clung to the [Pillar of the Heavens].
His ape arms curled around it as he silently exerted force.
Liang Qu clenched his five fingers and slowly drew his upper body back into the black hole, as though staying in that small space could give him a greater sense of security.
This cavern that absorbed an ocean of Blood River water was smooth and pitch-black from top to bottom, save for light at either end, like a long, narrow water pipe. He was precisely that plumber who jumped into pipes, wore blue overalls, and sported a thick beard.
He stared blankly at this inky-black world for a long while.
Nothing occupied his mind.
The shock had been too great. His mind was as blank as a sheet of drawing paper, covered in a film of oil; any paint applied to it turned into tiny rolling beads and fell away.
Who knew how long passed.
The Blood Ape released one arm again and stretched out.
It took one look, then swiftly withdrew.
Again and again.
Three times in all, it poked out and pulled back.
The oily film slowly peeled away, leaving behind a rough white sheet. The rough fibers caught the paint, and a picture began to emerge upon the paper.
His stagnant thoughts began turning once more.
A dragon?
Was it really a dragon?
His heart pounded.
Liang Qu did not believe anyone would be bored enough to create a lifelike fake model and place it here for solitary admiration. Nor would anyone pay