The aura within the deep pit was dark and piercingly cold, blowing over his body as if it could penetrate his entire being. Moreover, this aura was not just cold; it seemed to harbor a power capable of invading the soul.
Initially, Wang Yan could comfortably resist this dark aura, but as he continued progressing, the aura grew colder and colder.
Eventually, Wang Yan had to rely on the Power of Demon Patterns to fend off this aura, which prevented him from freezing stiff.
Walking along, Wang Yan surveyed his surroundings, noticing that this deep pit was a round passage, large and wide, about several dozen meters in height and width, a space wide enough for three trains to run abreast.
Moreover, the soil surrounding the deep pit was exceedingly smooth, as if sculpted by hand.
If it was indeed sculpted by hand, who would have established such a massive pit beneath the bustling district of Wanghai City?
