After Duke deduced this information, he roughly understood the operating mode of this plane.
He increasingly felt the power of this plane, and it seemed that the top experts of this plane were not simple. Even if the Four Great Wizard Organizations joined forces, it would probably take considerable effort to conquer this place.
Duke lay in the gently swaying carriage, the piece of dry grass in his mouth swaying softly with the jostle of the vehicle.
The afterglow of the setting sun slanted through the open door of the carriage, casting distinct lines of light and shadow on his face, dyeing one half with a warm golden red, while the other half remained hidden in the shadows of the carriage, appearing profound and serene.
Outside the window, the wasteland was painted into a magnificent and desolate canvas by the sunset.
Golden-red light spilled over the severely weathered giant hills, casting long and twisted shadows from the jagged boulders.
