The entire Little Cang World, perhaps only a Black Tortoise relying on its flesh, has a certain possibility of surviving.
Others, including Wang Ba himself, inevitably turn to dust in this wind.
However, all this has eventually passed.
Turn back and look ahead.
The wind has gradually ceased.
White dust flows slowly in the front, with deeper darkness seeping from this dust, evoking an oddly serene and quiet sense.
All direction has been lost here.
Not just Fanming, even Wang Ba, with his view obscured, cannot see the distant stars, and thus does not know where he is at all.
At this time, neither Little Cang World nor Fanming had other choices, only to fly towards where the white matter was becoming scarcer and the view better.
Inside the Realm Sea, there were no references, so they did not know how long had passed.
The surrounding white dust did not thin as Wang Ba predicted, but instead, grew thicker.
The visibility also decreased again.
