"Boom!"
A dull thunder exploded in the gloomy sky, seemingly heralding the arrival of a thunderstorm.
At this moment,
at a desolate mountain on the border of Xingzhou, a dilapidated temple was revealed under the flash of lightning.
"Cough cough!" A weak cough echoed from a corner of the temple.
Zhao Ge, who was seriously injured, groggily regained consciousness, his face pale and his expression withered. His hair, once partly white, had now completely whitened. Compared to last month, he seemed to have aged more than twenty years in an instant, and his wrinkled face even began to show age spots.
"Master, you've awakened," said a slightly weak man who hurried over when he heard the sound.