This feeling was extremely marvelous.
An Yang felt as though he were traveling deep underground, yet also felt like he was flying high above the clouds. At times, his skin felt moist and cold as if wrapped in water, and the occasional slight sensation of weightlessness even gave him the illusion that he was breaking free from gravity.
Suddenly, he felt as though he had crashed into something.
"Rumble..."
The impact was transmitted to him for the very first split second, followed immediately by a sluggish feeling akin to charging into a mud pit, and the turbulence of entering a chaotic airspace.
That sluggishness was not slowness, but rather a discomfort brought on by the comprehensive failure of bodily functions. The turbulence was not mere shaking, but a continuous vertical oscillation of several hundred meters in the air, challenging the ultimate limits of human endurance.
An Yang finally understood why the white dragon had deliberately warned him. Given even his current level of strength, he might well be unable to endure such turmoil. If he were an ordinary person, his body would likely rupture from various pressures in less than a second!
Fortunately, the white dragon had not lied to you either; this sensation lasted only a moment. Breaking out of the grand array would make everything fine.
He did not know how long he had flown—truth be told, he had lost all sense of time after that recent ordeal—only that his moving speed gradually slowed down and his feet finally touched solid ground.
Before he even had a chance to properly experience the peace of mind brought by this stability, a salty, damp wind carrying a faint fishy stench blew straight into his face, lifting his hair and collar with exceptional coolness. At the same time, the crashing sound