As black smoke poured out, Gu Shen, standing at the edge of a snowy cliff, gently stepped forward. His movement was light, like a bird folding its wings and plunging straight down. The rolling dark tide swallowed half of the mountain, seemingly engulfing him too. One second later, Gu Shen's falling figure surpassed the speed of the spreading black tide. At this moment, he resembled an arrow, hurtling toward the ground, completely indifferent to the fate of his flesh and blood body on the thousand-meter cliff!
Mr. Zhuo saw the second "flesh and blood fireworks" with eyes full of bloodshot!
He did not hesitate, jumping down after Gu Shen.
This youth seemed like a ghost, having mastered the art of "spiritual power" converging to perfection. If he were to leap into the vast snow, Mr. Zhuo would really have no chance of catching him!
The small sword accelerated rapidly in the air, bursting with a roar that shattered the sound barrier.
Gu Shen's expression was impassive as he fell.
