As his mind and sense organs slowed, Meng Qi felt everything in front of him come to a standstill.
Suddenly, a fierce wind passed by as if it was removing the seal of stillness. Everything soon returned to normal. Devil Qi was rolling again. The black and white world was tinted with bright colors. The bloody river continued to flow.
The black clouds that were gathered by the previous meteorological changes were still sprinkling their tears—spots of rains continuously fell to the ground.
Drip, drop, drip, drop! Many of the dark shadows faded as they screamed in pain, leaving just a few of them intact.
Smokes and clouds gathered together and became the mummy again. But its Devil Qi became weaker with almost identical Buddhist light.
The Vital Spirit above Jiang Zhiwei's head had burned so much that it had become weak and transparent as if it would disappear at any time.