Step by step, as he walked toward the opposite bank, the stone bridge grew ever more dilapidated.
Weathered stone dust sifted down in a steady patter. Several stone bricks even fell, plunging into the water and vanishing without a trace.
They did not so much as raise a single splash. Only faint ripples spread outward, warping Qin He's reflection.
The opposite bank was empty and vast. No horizon could be seen, nor could its boundaries be sensed.
Wisps of black smoke rose from the cracked nether soil, gathering into dense, heavy clouds high above.
Qin He raised his head and gazed upward, attempting to find something beyond those dark clouds, but ultimately failed.
Above the clouds was not a sky.
It was more like an Abyss—a bottomless darkness, ancient and eternal, emerging from the far end of history's endless years and leading toward the other end of the long river.
This was no illusion.
Qin He found it difficult to imagine who would expend such immense effort merely to construct a space like this.
To kill someone, or trap someone, there was no need for such a grand undertaking.
It was like imprisoning a convict: a three-foot iron cell would have sufficed. There was no need to create such an enormous and enigmatic space.
Even the work of a True Immortal had to account for costs.
Following the lay of the land, this was a stretch of ruins and wreckage. It might have been arranged into a formation by someone, or altered afterward into its present form.
Qin He activated all manner of eye techniques, but all he saw before him was chaos.
Just as he was about to continue onward, he lowered his head and suddenly discovered, to his surprise, a green plant growing in a low depression by