Chapter 845

The tranquil valley was filled with towering trees.

A bright moon hung overhead, its pristine moonlight filtering through the leaves, casting mottled shadows on the ground.

The sporadic calls of birds that echoed from time to time suddenly ceased, and in an instant, the valley went from serene to deathly still.

A massive spatial rift suddenly appeared, slowly expanding. At the very moment it materialized, everything in the vicinity—trees, rocks, animals, and even the air—seemed to be swept into the rift, as if dragged by a tremendous gravitational pull.

Yet, amidst this powerful force, a hand suddenly thrust forth.

A hand that was fair, slender, steady, and strong.

That hand braced against the edge of the spatial rift as if it was pushing against some solid substance, forcefully pushing back, followed by a second hand.