Between heaven and earth, a cold wind raged.
The dim luster was suddenly reflected off the enormous, rusty vulture, illuminating Jia Yongheng's face at that moment.
His face still bore a shocked expression, and the muscles at the corners of his eyes twitched slightly.
Yet, the vulture snatched by his Sword Intent and dropped into the Black Water, even as powerful as it was, had already decomposed into pitch-black particles, as if encountering a massive amount of highly corrosive liquid, and was instantly corroded beyond recognition.
On the water's surface, a few pitch-black, shiny feathers as tough as steel floated lonely, nearly identical to the solitary white Spirit Armor that Zhou Yan had seen earlier.
They were also incredibly lonely.
This was a momentum.
A momentum that made one feel loneliness and solitude at a glance.
"Sigh..."