Qin Mo let out a long, heavy sigh, casting one final, deeply longing look at his resting female before turning toward the spatial center of the room.
With a sharp flick of Lin Wan's mind, a swirling vortex of golden light erupted before him.
Qin Mo stepped through the boundary, his elegant face instantly morphing into an icy, terrifying mask of absolute sovereign majesty as the golden light swallowed him whole, dropping him directly into the dark, dusty center of the primitive wooden hut on the surface.
Outside the wooden palisade of the Orycto tribe, the atmosphere was thick with the suffocating scent of imminent slaughter.
The small, primitive village was entirely geared up for what looked like a bloody, completely suicidal final stand.
The tribal females and children had already been gathered and hidden deep within the dark, defensive safety of the back caves.
