Must

Clumps of white ash fell to the ground like thick snow. However, rather than coldness, what met the people was a burning heat. The shadow covered the earth as far as one could see. Everything was covered with a layer of gray-white, distant and cold.

In the ruins, Ye Qingxuan looked up to the sky. Where the material and aether world overlapped, one could vaguely detect the distorted boundary. There, everything froze, creating a world of eternal stillness. There, one could only see a cold yet sharp city. It used the power of heaven and the abyss to go through the material and aether world. Absorbing the energy, the Sacred Fire burned, brewing something terrible.

Ye Qingxuan gaped at the shadow. After a long while, he hung his head and caressed the object in his hands. It had fallen to the ground and was covered in ashes. It looked like something left over from the fire. It was the only relic.

"F*ck…" he muttered, clenching a fist weakly.