It was pitch black outside, and the roar of wind could be heard from inside the crack. The crack seemed like it was a world of its own, and the roar from outside was the only sound in the world.
The endless suction force came from the pit as if it wanted to devour everything.
Wang Lin sat in the lotus position inside the crack, looking out into the darkness. He seemed to have fused with the darkness. All that was left was the occasional lightning that flashed across his eyes that light up the crack.
Being trapped here caused a sense of loneliness to gradually appear in his head. It was as if he was isolated from the world and forgotten by everyone...
The only thing that accompanied him were his memories of his 800 years of cultivation.
Lonely people always remember every single person that appeared in their life. Wang Lin's loneliness deepened as he recalled the past.
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