The Hidden Clan in the Black Domain!

The Dingjun Sword shone in the darkness.

Its dark-gold sword light cleaved through the chaos spiritual energy ahead, opening a narrow passage for him.

Void power flowed around his body.

It devoured, transformed, and absorbed the chaos spiritual energy that tried to tear him apart.

Within the storm, he saw strange sights.

The chaos spiritual energy condensed into all manner of shapes around him.

There were giant beasts, mountains and rivers, human faces, and weapons.

Some of those faces laughed, some wept, some roared in fury, and some pleaded.

Su Ming knew they were not real.

They were fragments of memories lingering in the chaos spiritual energy, the last traces left by the living beings the storm had devoured over the past ten thousand years.

He neither looked nor listened. He simply kept walking.

He did not know how long he had walked through the storm.

Perhaps a day, perhaps two.

Time had lost its meaning within the chaos storm. His perception had been compressed to its utmost limit, and he could see less than ten zhang ahead.

His body had reached its limit, and his consciousness had begun to blur.

But his hand still gripped his sword, and his feet still carried him forward.

Then the storm suddenly stopped.

It did not gradually dissipate. Instead, as though someone had pressed a pause button, it fell still in an instant.

Su Ming stood in the void, surrounded by deathly silence.

He lowered his head and looked at his body. His robes were gone, and wounds covered him.

In some places, even his bones were exposed.

A gash on his left arm ran deep enough to reveal bone, and fine cracks covered the femur of his right leg.

He did not collapse.

He planted the Dingjun Sword in the void before