C1887 contending

Stepping lightly in the air, his figure flickered as he jumped through space between nothingness and primordial chaos.

The aura around him was very familiar, as if he was one with himself, but he still felt that there was something wrong.

Fang Bai knew that this was the final thirty percent.

On the surface, he was only missing thirty percent to completely refine the Great Desolation