The back of Bai Lu's hand was engraved with a black rose entangled in thorns.
And wherever Black Feather passed,
thorns bloomed——
"Enter the dream!"
Accompanied by a cold, low reprimand.
The sturdy ice of Ning River shattered with a boom, the land beyond the small bridge collapsed entirely, and where the dream propagated, black thorns tumbled like earth dragons, large clusters of roses as big as mountains, perched on both banks of Ning River, replacing the ancient towers and old streets.
This dreamscape...was indescribably eerie, enchanting, dreamlike.
Gu Shen stood at the end of the small bridge.
Behind him, a piercing pain akin to a sword thrust to the heart faintly emanated; glancing back, he saw no way back... his entire body was almost embedded within a giant wall of thorn-engulfed blooms.
The thorns piercing his soul body at his back brought him a faint piercing pain, but it also made Gu Shen even more collected.