"Palm Thunder!"
"Palm Thunder!"
"Heavenly Lightning, Earthly Fire!"
"Heavenly Lightning, Earthly Fire!!!"
By reflex, Shen Le hurled four or five offensive spells in rapid succession. Then his vision suddenly went black.
Before he could react, he was still desperately flinging his hands forward. Only when he could no longer cast anything did he finally stop, panting heavily as he looked around.
He was back.
Or rather, he had been ejected from that memory and was once more standing inside the stone grotto on Zhongnan Mountain, facing that small, exquisite stone coffin.
Instead of standing in Zhuo Commandery near Liaodong at the end of the Sui Dynasty, watching with his own eyes the aftermath of natural and man-made disasters—the crumbling shack, the flames rising inside it, and the thing constantly rolling in the boiling water of the pot—
Shen Le made a strangled sound, and his face changed drastically. He clawed at his throat and retched several times, but nothing came up. His stomach only continued to churn violently.
What had occasionally surfaced in that boiling water, allowing him to see it clearly, was a tiny hand still attached to half an arm!!!
"During great disasters, people ate one another." "Of the people, four or five out of ten devoured each other." He had read such records in history books countless times—so often that he had thought he was mentally prepared.
But when it truly appeared before his eyes, Shen Le still felt that it had far exceeded the limits of what he could bear.
He had seen so many memories from old objects, yet he had never witnessed something like this firsthand!
Even in Li Xingtang's memories, when the Anxi Protectorate had finally run out of food and supplies, or when they had crossed the desert several times traveling back