Above the snow-capped mountains of the Jiangbei Tundra, a silent storm surged.
The dim long night was ignited by "fireworks".
Crimson blood burst forth in a spray.
The communication sounds from within the "silver foil" suddenly disappeared, and the world became incredibly quiet in an instant.
Other than the surging of the snowstorm, there was nothing but the continuous, sharp sounds of three fireworks exploding.
Mr. Zhuo and a trio on another snow mountain raised their heads, followed the sound, and silently gazed at the bright blood-red rising in the storm afar.
Though it was bloody and violent, it had to be admitted... the fireworks were actually quite beautiful.
Very striking.
"Ssh Ssh Ssh..."
After a brief silence.
The fireworks ended.
The linking network of spiritual power transmitted rough footsteps sounds.
By the sounds of it, someone had arrived in front of the "silver foil".
"Mr. Zhuo..."