A foul, metallic stench filled every corner of his mouth.
The viscous red liquid felt like a ball of fire as it slid down his esophagus and into his stomach.
His body shuddered. An unbearable heat instantly coursed through him, and the spectral image of a giant, blood-red Piyao appeared before his eyes, roaring furiously at the heavens.
His vision swam between black and red, filled with countless gray specks, and his ears rang with what sounded like the incessant roars of monsters.
If anyone had been there, they would have seen that Han Ning's face was exceptionally pale, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he endured what looked like immense pain.
Time passed. It seemed like an eternity, yet also just an instant.
He suddenly felt his Spiritual Power soar infinitely, and a peculiar, mist-filled, distorted space appeared within his mind.
