Half a moment later, Zhao Sheng reached the edge of the white mist.
The white mist seemed ordinary, but once Divine Sense probed into it, it was as if it was devoured, unable to send back even a shred of information.
He thought for a while before suddenly flashing to a recessed ice surface three miles away, concealing his breath and figure.
One day swiftly passed, and Zhao Sheng personally witnessed three Foundation Establishment Cultivators arriving one after another, and plunging into the white mist without hesitation.
Seeing this, Zhao Sheng no longer hesitated. After preparing all sorts of defenses, he plunged headfirst into the mist.
As the world spun around him, the white fog dissipated, and Zhao Sheng suddenly found himself in front of a stone room that had collapsed for the most part, with chaos all around, and a wall strewn with rubble next to which wild grasses grew as tall as half a person.