The chaotic, dark entrance of a giant cavern.
A massive six-fingered hand slowly grips the edge of the cavern entrance!
Those six fingers are dry and ashen, like skin wrapped around bone, with distinct knuckles, yet exuding an unsettling aura of gloomy death.
Even though it has yet to fully emerge, every cultivator who sights the hand cannot help but shiver, instinctively wanting to back away, the farther the better.
That is the innate fear of living beings towards death!
Opposite.
The gaunt old man stared blankly, watching this scene.
Mumbling to himself, in disbelief:
"It truly is a Divine Corpse..."
He had nurtured a Divine Corpse with his own hands, so how could he not recognize how astonishing the presence deep within the cavern entrance is?
The progress of nurturing is clearly above his own.
