An Jing walked on the pitch-black Wilderness.
There was no sun, no moon, and no stars.
No dawn, no dusk, and no guidance.
Even on this barren land without grass, where even the gravel was compacted and the wind ceased, he temporarily lost 'himself'.
If it were an ordinary person, they would be at a loss here, unable to discern directions, unaware of their destination or even why they were here, hence unable to even set off, fearfully staying in place.
But the young Martial Artist strolled across the boundless Wilderness, casually choosing a direction, with no destination and no need for a final result.
He never stopped because stopping meant weariness, pain, and emptiness.
He also never hurried because haste meant annoyance, confusion, and fear.
He walked calmly, consistently.
If one were to rank everyone in this world by willpower, he would certainly be among those engaging in the final battle.
