The Southern Border is originally a desolate realm wedged between heaven and earth, where miasma and impure air intermingle, a stark contrast to the pristine Brahma Heaven of the Spirit Mountain.
Chen Sheng traveled westward, facing a vast expanse of Black Mountain stretching millions of miles.
The rocks are entirely black, ancient trees are thick and lush, blocking out the sky, with black mist lingering year-round, concealing sun and moonlight.
Demonic winds howl through the mountains, with oppressive malice, even the vegetation exudes a sense of fierceness.
Chen Sheng suddenly paused his steps, a spontaneous insight struck him, his fate resonated.
He lowered his gaze, raised his hand, and pinched lightly with his fingertips, instantly seeing past the hidden threads, his eyes slightly brightened:
"There's actually such a predestined fate."
