At this moment, it was raining in the countless worlds formed by the fragmented memories of Great Emperor Nether Flame.
It landed on all the people who entered.
Whether it was Lin Kun or cultivators of the West Demon Feather, none of them could escape the rain.
As time passed, the rain intensified, pouring down in torrents, turning every realm into a realm of rain.
Within these rain-formed veils, the dark and deathly grave world emerged in every realm.
This lasted until it replaced everything.
It was like devouring.
It caused all the memory fragments to transform into… tombs one after another!
…
When Xu Qing opened his eyes, he had no idea where he was. He lay there, surrounded by darkness and a pervasive dampness. At the same time, it felt as if his cultivation senses had vanished.
He could only make a judgment based on the sense of touch.
When he touched around, he felt cold wood.