the photography butterfly
the white mist lingered as if he had climbed to the peak of a mountain. looking down at the wisps of mist, it was a landscape painting with matching density and light.
however, the whistling and spinning green wind blades, the falling orange-red rain of fire, and the crackling and flashing golden lightning ...
in an instant, the mist was torn into pieces, the earth melted into a deep pit, and the eyes of the fierce and violent monsters were rolled back and their bodies twitched ...
the most eye-catching one was a dark golden giant ape with a small green tree on its back. it was killing its way in and out of the beast group.
it didn't even need to deliberately swing its fists. it just needed to rely on its strong bones and muscles to randomly charge around.