Half a year slipped quietly by, steeped in the rules of Primordial Magnetic Origin Mountain.
At that moment, Qing Chen formed a hand seal. His Sea of Consciousness suddenly shuddered, and his awareness was instantly dragged into an unknown realm.
The once-stable barriers of the independent space around him now cracked like fragile glass, shattering inch by inch.
Before the shattered light could drift down, the scene beneath his feet had already changed completely;
-he was standing on a dark iron suspension bridge spanning a gloomy abyss.
The bridge's chains were forged from an unknown kind of dark iron.
They were as thick as an adult's arm, their surfaces covered in bluish-black rust.
Beneath the bridge, geomagnetic turbulence surged like a rampaging behemoth, battering the chains and producing piercing creaks that struck terror into the heart.
The bridge deck was laid with cold iron, its chill penetrating to the bone.
Below it churned dark purple geomagnetic turbulence, arcs of light crackling within it like venomous snakes flicking their tongues. A rank, parching stench assailed his face, enough to turn the stomach.
Should he accidentally touch even a trace of it, he would likely be shredded into flying ash in an instant.
"Hmph!"
Just then, more than a dozen zhang away, a fist-sized Light Person abruptly took shape.
Pale golden magnetic light enveloped its body, and deep blue Magnetic Fire flickered in its eyes. Compared with half a year ago, it had actually gained a measure of liveliness.
The Light Person had barely appeared when, without wasting a word, it shot a strand of silvery-white Magnetic Threads from its fingertip with a hiss.
That magnetic thread was as fine as gossamer, yet it carried a shrill whistle capable of splitting metal and cleaving stone as it stabbed toward Qing Chen's face