"Whiz!"
"Whiz whiz..."
"Pff pff pff..."
"Boom..."
The boring machine was frantically drilling forward, while behind it, the Treant Race's Eleventh Stage elder pursued relentlessly. His arms had transformed into brown vines, weaving through the soil, pushing aside rocks, dragging his body forward—a speed noticeably faster than the boring machine.
If this continues, within ten minutes, the elder will be close enough, and when all those vines wrap around, the entire boring machine will be tightly enveloped. Under that squeeze, consequences would be unimaginable...
Inside the boring machine, Sima Yan, Long Zhan, and Sima Qing all looked solemn. Although their brows were furrowed tightly, there was no fear; instead, their eyes held hostility. Being chased like this made their tempers flare up.
Chen Tang was already sitting like an old monk, fully refining the Earth Talisman he had just obtained. It was the only hope.
