The eye of reincarnation, the blow of death, the consciousness of the cold wind is already slightly faint, but it has escaped into another world.

......

......

The three-thousand-meter-high Guyue Peak, the north wind is howling.

The 30-meter-high obelisk stands in the center of the mountaintop, made of white jade, and the surface is polished as smooth as a mirror, reflecting the light of the moon.

Han Feng had never seen jade of such purity, looked up at the top of the obelisk, and sighed: "......Who created such a solemn stone tablet?"

Standing in the reflection of the wordless monument, the dark gray hem of the clothes made a rustling sound against the slightly cool night breeze.

He approached the wordless monument little by little, walked to the corner of the wordless monument, and held his breath.

Xishan saw that the red-clothed brocade was like a blooming peony flower, standing quietly behind him, his eyes were clear, and he smiled softly: "Cold wind, there is a sealed ancient enchantment inside the ancient miracles, if you encounter any unforeseen circumstances, stop immediately, and retreat is the most important ......"

Su Jinglu looked up at the top of the wordless obelisk, lightly tapped his shoulder, and said meaningfully: "Seven years ago, I stood here and saw this wordless monument as white as jade for the first time. Haunted by dreams, souls connected, my life seems to be on a certain dimension with the wordless monument, life and death. ”

There are nine ancient miracles in the Eastern Continent, and the wordless stele stands on the peak of Guyue Peak, without any talismans and words, and there is no inheritance.

"You wait for me, and I will find something in the enchantment of the wordless monument. ”

The cold wind took a deep breath, closed his eyes slightly, sat cross-legged on his knees, folded his hands, his dark gray hair sprinkled with his heart, and the wind moved with his heart.

Nishiyama Mikawa and Su Jinglu took a few steps back, waiting quietly not far away, waiting for the cold wind to return in glory.

The internal enchantment of the ancient miracles is itself a majestic force field, and no divine or true power can penetrate into it, and the pure soul power is slightly insignificant compared to the majestic and vast force field.

The cold wind fell into meditation, and the power of the soul disturbed the wind tide, gently blowing the smooth and jade-like surface of the wordless stele, meticulous and indistinguishable.

His soul power harnesses the wind, with meticulous attention.

Perceiving the world inside the wordless monument is more like a baptism of the soul.

The wind, which was as thin as a gossamer, covered the entire surface of the wordless monument, and under the interference of the wind, the faint green fluorescence quietly disappeared and lost its luster.

The power of the soul flicked by, looking for the best time to cut inside.

Looking for a kind of flatness, looking for the peak of the rhythm change of the internal force field, the force field acts to resist the escape of the perceptual force, and it is almost impossible to forcibly escape.

The cold wind is thoughtful, carefully sensing the rhythm of the rhythm of the rhythm change of the strong internal force field, and the soul power cuts in from the peak point of change, so that the wind movement blends into the fluctuation of the force field, step by step.

Constant attempts at observation, which require a delicate mind and control of the wind against the sky, as well as a gift for merging wind movements and fluctuations.

Engrossed, he could not tolerate the slightest difference, he did his best, at the last moment, the power of the soul is like a leaf, against the raging tide, find the right time, instantly get rid of the shackles of the branches, obtain the fastest instantaneous speed, have the greatest energy, escape into the tide.

The soul escapes, a new world, a new opening!

......

The perception of the cold wind entered the world inside the wordless monument, and in front of his eyes was a boundless and magnificent blue ocean of the Han Sea.

I can't see the world in the sky, I can't see the depth of the sky, there are no clouds in the sky, the sea and the sky are the same color, a deep blue.

"What the hell is this place, how is it a blue ocean, the waves are monstrous, but there is no sound, every white cloud in the blue sky ......"

Han Feng was puzzled, he had never seen such a big clear sky and blue waves.

The clear blue water raised thousands of feet of huge waves, wave after wave, endless, with no end in sight, and the whole sea area was in the shape of fish scales. The huge waves are monstrous, but the catharsis of the tsunami cannot be heard, and the huge waves are repeated, but there is no trace of wind blowing.

In front of me, there is a world of rolling waves, a world of infinite boundlessness, a world without white clouds and winds.

Perception is the horizon, and what you perceive is in front of you.

"It is unbelievable that there is such a vast and boundless enchantment world in the world, as far as the eye can see, there is no waterfront, there is no endless ......"

In a trance, Han Feng's consciousness still firmly believed that the realm could not be endless, and if he kept going, one day, he would reach the end of the end.

The power of the soul is attached to the huge and monstrous waves, and the rolling waves of followers rush to the distant sky.

The water is blue, but like pure water, it has no taste and is tasteless.

The blue ocean, in depth, is equally endless, with no end in sight. The power of the soul that escapes into it is limited, and it is impossible to penetrate into the bottomless underwater world of the sea.

In the most effortless way, he followed the current, followed the monstrous waves, and headed towards the unknown coast together.

There is no sunrise and sunset, no ebb and flow, wave after wave, each wave is exactly the same, infinite cycles, and the cycle is indomitable.

The silent sky, clear blue, became the only color of this world, without darkness, the eternal world, where the meaning of time is lost, the repetition of changes, the same.

The ebb and flow of the tide and the eternal progress well define the dimension of spatial extension.

A world without time, a world with infinite loops, a world with no end in sight, and the power of the cold wind's soul is about to be lost.

He tried his best to control his sense of direction, time did not change, the world did not change, but the power of the soul was quietly diluted. This is not a good thing for the cold wind, if the soul power disappears before the tide reaches the shore, this journey to the enchantment will be a complete failure.

Only by reaching the distant horizon will you be at the end of the world and foresee the future.

The end of the world is the source of the realm.

The power of the soul is disappearing in the slightest, and the skyline where the sky and the sea intersect is still far away. He didn't know how long his soul power could last, and the belief in his heart showed that what he saw in his vision was indomitable, and he would meet in the future.

There is no sound of the wind, drifting quietly, there is no time, drifting to the unknown eternity.

The world of the Enchantment has no dimension of time, and the world where Cold Wind is located is completely different, and he knows that he has already gone through a long journey. Now it seems that a distant journey to the realm has just begun.

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, far away, and begins with eternal faith. Unswervingly.

I don't know, but how long it took for the soul power to only be one-third of what it was when it came in.

The monstrous waves are still rolling tirelessly, the clear sky is still the same, the sky is clear, cloudless, quiet and peaceful, without a trace of wind and tide disturbance.

Tranquil airspace, tireless sea, no timeless junction.

The power of the soul cruising in the vast sea, unswerving, keeps moving forward, following the waves, rushing to the end of no time and space.