The silent air, as if it was about to explode in the next second, was trembling silently.

The Dead Apostle moved his arm and said with a grim face, "What did you say?" ”

Chen Qi repeated flatly: "Are you deaf......?"

The biting chill of winter, wrapped in dark magic, condensed into an endless yin wind that ecstasy and bones, blew in his face, and the strange magic seemed to be pervasive, and the Dead Apostle seemed to clasp Chen Qi's wrist in order to reciprocate it.

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Chapter 7 of "The Fantasy Archetype of the Moon": Seconds are being hit, please wait a while,

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