"Ah! Ah!"
The sound of crows echoed beside him. Zhao Xing felt pain all over his body, as if he'd been punched countless times.
His eyelids were incredibly heavy. He tried hard to open them, but couldn't manage it.
[What's happening? Am I so injured that I can't even lift my eyelids...]
[I can't even manage inner vision, so... Primordial Spirit out!]
Nothing happened. Darkness still shrouded Zhao Xing's vision.
Not entirely darkness, as his eyes moved, tiny starlights seemed to move along.
After an indeterminate period, a sudden sensation of coolness emerged beside him.
It seemed to give Zhao Xing strength, and soon his body seemed to revive. Zhao Xing suddenly opened his eyes.
"Ah! Ah!"
Withered vines, ancient trees, and unidentified species of crows flapped their wings and flew away.
The sky was dim; not night, but the light was incredibly faint.
Dark clouds obscured everything. Zhao Xing found himself not lying flat, but leaning against a withered tree.
