The desolate wilderness stretched as far as the eye could see, devoid of any green vegetation. The sky was a dreary gray, as if shrouded by a layer of mist, setting an extremely somber tone.
In this gray sky, seven points of light were moving rapidly.
These seven points of light were divided into two groups: one light in the front, six in the back, but the distance between them was no more than a hundred miles and rapidly narrowing.
The escaping light at the very front was a flame, surrounded by blazing radiance.
Inside the escaping light, Mo Yan gritted his teeth, saying nothing.
Speed was not his strength; destructive power was.
Of course, as a prodigy, even if it wasn't his strength, his speed was still greater than ninety-nine percent of Sixth Realm cultivators.
Unfortunately, those pursuing him weren't Sixth Realm cultivators, but demon beasts of Seventh Grade strength.
