The purple-robed figure, upon hearing this, slowly turned its head, a pair of eerie, double pupils quietly staring at it, sending a chill down its spine.
A few breaths later, the purple-robed figure finally spoke, the voice seeming to come from another world, ethereal and overlapping, as if numerous voices converged into one:
"That depends on them..."
"Them?"
The Six-fingered Innate Divine Demon couldn't help but frown again upon hearing this.
It turned to look at the wind disaster area, silent yet with turbulent undercurrents.
And at the end of its vision, like a small boat, the wandering domain and the great bird.
This place, even it dared not enter recklessly.
The wind here seemed progressive, but in reality, one couldn't predict where a strong undercurrent might crush life into dust.
"Can they really cross this area?"
The Six-fingered Innate Divine Demon didn't hide its doubts.
