Wind seemed to be constantly blowing around the entire Hall."Whoosh ..."
The wind howled, seemingly carrying a bone-chilling cold. Even the lights on the lamps flickered, their light alternating between bright and dim, but no matter how strong the wind was, the lights on the lamps continued to burn.
It was as if they were not real flames, but the kind of flames that one could control.
Narong Yeche sat upright in the air, mumbling something under his breath. His body emitted a white light continuously. The finger he had bitten earlier was emitting a blood-colored mist.
His long hair fluttered in the wind, bringing with it an otherworldly arc. It was like silk, fluttering in the wind, making him look like an elegant immortal. His beauty and temperament fused together, making him even more elegant and unparalleled.
His features were as picturesque as a painting. However, at this moment, his face was pale, and his gorgeous eyes had a grave expression.
