Wuzhou involuntarily stepped toward the threshold but stopped before the doorway as a gentle breeze softly arrived, pushing him back repeatedly.
The clear wind swirled through the heavens and earth, demonstrating the formless cycle of life and death.
"Roar——"
A sudden tiger's roar sounded from behind the door, causing Wuzhou's expression to change drastically, his Primordial Spirit wavered as if to disperse, and his spirit approached a state of deathly silence!
Behind the threshold, large shadows emerged.
It was a gaunt tiger, emaciated and covered in sword scars and knife wounds, old scars overlapping new ones, crisscrossing, covering its trunk and limbs, silently narrating the life-death path it trod from mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
