Eight Desolates Imperial Lord Lun Ling

Central Plains.

In the sky above the battlefield between the Heavenly Feather Phoenix Race and the Heavenly Human Race.

A young man stared at the sky as if waiting for an answer.

For the other party to be able to extend this far, he was definitely not an ordinary person. In fact, he gave off a strange feeling.

The innkeeper also looked up, not knowing if the other party would leave his name behind.

He could look over, but he didn't.

The way the other party acted was somewhat different.

Jiang Lan looked at his opponent. He could choose to close the passage and retreat safely.

But name…

Rather than letting them guess, it was better to confirm it for them.

He opened his mouth and spoke.

At this moment, the genius from the Heavenly Human Race sensed that a voice was currently sounding from the sky. It was a voice that was difficult for others to hear, as if it was the voice of heaven and earth.