Above the spirit island, the enormous vortex formed by dark clouds slowly descended towards White Bone Mountain, with countless red fire thunders swirling and converging in its depths, ready at any moment to strike the Skull Divine Statue.
Every time the vortex descended several dozen feet, over a hundred white dots on the divine statue inexplicably collapsed, turning into a chaotic torrent of consciousness, dissipating into nothingness.
Zhao Sheng retreated some distance, staring intently at the three-headed and six-armed white shadow that twisted and surged continuously, with waves of will occasionally emanating from it, seemingly unable to hold on much longer.
"Damn it! If it weren't for..."
"Damn it! If only it wasn't..."
"Damn it, if it weren't that..."
At this moment, a hundredfold angry roar suddenly came from above White Bone Mountain, the sound indistinct, as if countless voices were overlapped together, layer upon layer, resembling endless echoes.
