To be precise, it wasn't a truly existing voice but one that arose directly in Li Ang's mind.
The voice was dreamlike and illusory, fluctuating and indistinct. Its melody was slow and strange, like distant rolling thunder or a mumbled murmur in a dream.
In an instant, Li Ang's mind was filled with this voice, and all other stray thoughts vanished as swiftly as if flushed down a toilet.
TREAD. TREAD. TREAD.
In the darkness ahead, footsteps approached slowly.
Fierce heat waves became tangible, sweeping over him. The temperature soared, willfully twisting the surrounding air.
The fine sandy ground beneath Li Ang's feet instantly dried and cracked, even showing signs of crystallization.
His own skin also shriveled and cracked due to the sudden rise in temperature.
On the back of his left hand, the Divine Mark slowly emitted strands of coolness, nourishing his skin scorched by the heatwave. The King Slime, still within its active duration, also continued to heal Li Ang's injuries.
