After leaving the ruins of the Ancient Wind Ruined City, it was still the territory of Ruins Ridge.
Rugged mountains stretched all the way to the horizon.
Song Zidong was running like lightning at his feet, sweeping past streams, gorges, harsh ridges, and swamps.
Endless primitive mountains, ancient forests of the wolf, and barren, layered mountains were rarely trodden by humans.
At that moment, as the Golden Crow was fading away, the setting sun stretched across the wasteland and ancient city, casting a distant, blood-red vastness.
Hearing the faint sound of breaking air behind him, Song Zidong, who was fleeing forward, became increasingly panicked, a grim sense of foreboding and the scent of death spreading relentlessly behind him.
"Damn it, where did this devil come from!"
Cursing in the dark, Song Zidong didn't stop his feet and simultaneously turned his head toward the source of the breaking sound.
