The Black Immortal Crane slowly ascended into the sky, pulling the Ancient Bronze Ship along.
The invisible shackles binding this world were also gradually tightening and shattering.
Song Yan stood at the front of the ship's cabin, where it was raining outside.
A heavy rain.
The torrential downpour flowed violently, resembling a vast sea.
In a world where days were short and nights long, the splendor from millennia ago had already perished, leaving only those struggling to survive, living without knowing today or tomorrow. Cultivators from all directions tirelessly sought ways to transcend, yet they remained unaware... that all was in vain.
Song Yan reached into his Storage Bag, realizing he didn't bring any wine, chuckling to himself in self-mockery.
At such times, sinking into a drunken stupor might not be a bad choice.
The Ascension Order given by the old man ensured that nothing significant was likely to happen to him aboard this Ancient Bronze Ship.
