It seemed to spring from behind the person to the front, wielded in hand.
This spear, outwardly extremely ordinary, could not even be described as mediocre and might be called ugly.
It was simply a burnt stick, somehow salvaged by someone, casually whittled and roughly appended with a spearhead.
Only after being used for a long time, the spear's body had been finely polished, reasonably smooth.
And when it advanced with a posture that pierced through everything, forcing you to take another look, you suddenly could feel a power that pierced through time from it.
Too sharp, yet too strong.
Passed down through generations, civilization never ends.
What can block this spear?
It can pierce the clouds and break the moon above, crush the sea and sink boats below.
Who in the world can withstand it?
It is the sharpness of this spear!
