The paper crane flapped its wings, speeding forward as the surrounding light and shadows blurred into retreat.
Jiang Fan sat cross-legged at the tail of the crane. He stared into the receding Void, his brows furrowed in silence. Despite the Ancient Saint of Cloud Desolation sending this paper crane across thousands of miles to aid him, a lingering sense of oppression still gripped his heart.
In the depths of his mind, a strong intuition took hold. He felt he was going to lose something incredibly important. Perhaps it would be his life, or perhaps something even more precious than his life.
Half a day later.
The Sages who had been hunting Jiang Fan and his companions all returned to their respective worlds. Before they could even complain about their bad luck, they realized their worlds had been engulfed in a churning Blood Sea.
