Generation after generation, endless and inexhaustible.

Mercer was in agony.

"Why am I so unlucky? I hadn't encountered any danger just now, all I did was say one thing, how did I end up trapped in this damned place!"

Indeed...

Ever since Mercer had secretly rejoiced, thinking that the Voodoo Cult wasn't dangerous and that he would definitely get the stele easily, he discovered...

He could hardly move.

He was trapped in a corridor, no matter how he walked, he simply couldn't get out.

To make matters worse, Mercer had entered through a dream.

His power was suppressed, making it difficult to unleash.

"Damn it!"

Mercer cursed, lifting his head to look around. The corridor was dark and deep, with no end in sight. Turning back, the rear was identical to the front.

There was no difference at all.

"I must do something, or else, perhaps I'll die here."

Although Mercer's strength was weak within the Vanity Sect, it didn't mean he was brainless.

At once.

Mercer hesitated for a moment, then touched his face.