Lin Ye floated above the clouds, watching with amusement as the figures in the desert below scurried away in a panic, like ants.
The earlier thunderstorm had been an indiscriminate attack. Now, he wanted to try something with more precise control.
A thought crossed Lin Ye's mind.
WHOOSH—!
Out of nowhere, a terrifying, category-16 gale sprang up across the flatlands!
Yellow sand was whipped a hundred meters into the air, forming walls of sand that stretched from the ground to the sky. As far as the eye could see, everything was a hazy, yellow blur.
Propelled by the terrifying gale, the sand striking their faces felt no different from a spray of tiny bullets.
It stung with a raw, biting pain!
Yet within this tempest, Lin Ye had intentionally left a pocket where the wind was slightly weaker.
Zhao Feng braced himself against the gale and roared himself hoarse, trying to tell the others to take shelter in the calmer zone.
"This way…! It's safe this way…!"
