The sand and dust gradually obscured his vision, reducing visibility more and more. Dark clouds blanketed the sky, as if a torrential downpour were about to begin.
But Mo Ling knew that rain would never come.
The air was very dry. Sand and stones flew across the walkway, and dust from who knew where slapped against Mo Ling's body. He had not been walking for long before his clothes were already covered in grit.
There was no moisture at all. It seemed that all the water in the air had been sucked away by the "black hole" behind him.
Mo Ling licked his lips, then took out some water from his bag and drank a mouthful.
He had been walking along the riverside path for a long time, yet the tremendous roar showed no sign of fading. The vibrations even seemed to be growing stronger.
This was not a good sign. It meant the disaster was intensifying.
What had happened before was probably only the beginning. Something even more terrifying lay ahead...
Mo Ling was now faced with a choice:
He had arrived at the renowned Jing Mountain Park, where the winding riverside path led up the mountain.
If he continued forward, he would have to climb Jing Mountain.
He could also continue along the river, but the river happened to bend here and run north to south. Though it would still take him farther away from the source of the roar, he would have to make quite a detour.
If he left the river and took the Main Road, Mo Ling worried about crowds. So his only options were to climb Jing Mountain or continue along the riverside path.
Since it could be called a park, it was hardly a rugged mountain.
Jing Mountain had originally been nothing more