The Purple-Golden Fate manifesting across the sky enveloped Xiao Chen, and upon the ancient Desolate Lands, flames flickered wildly with figures swaying unsteadily within.
Their dance was not graceful, rather clumsy and rugged, exuding a primitive and ancient roughness.
Elderly figures danced before the flames, casting scattered shadows that swayed, and Xiao Chen could even hear some obscure incantations near his ears.
With such incantations, he saw on the Human Realm of the primordial Desolate Lands, Purple Gas beginning to disperse.
"What is this?"
Xiao Chen's eyes held a trace of stagnation as he discovered that the Purple Gas he currently sensed was slightly different from the Purple Gas of his era—it was a spirit, an intention.