Chapter 617 An Old Man (1/2)

The gray chain surged toward Darren, its rattling sound like the din of an avalanche.

Darren went into a frenzy as he tried to dodge, but the undulating fetter seemed to know what he was thinking and adjusted its course.

He was trapped in the void with this thing. As it had been before, no matter how he tried to escape, he was running on the same spot.

Before he knew it, the chain had wrapped itself around him several times.

The next instant it tightened, and his limbs couldn't move. He was caught. Then he was moving, being dragged along behind the armored clay figurine as it ponderously approached the space cracks.

Darren was in a cold sweat.

Few things could put such a fear into him. But now, before this thing's terrible might, he was as vulnerable as any ordinary man.

Thick, dangerous-looking clouds gathered in the sky. A frigid wind rolled across the landscape, stinging Darren's face and sending shudders through his body.

Before him, the black space crack loomed like the mouth of some giant, ferocious monster, getting ready to swallow him alive.

As they came closer, Darren peered inside the space crack.

At the far end of the dark expanse, he beheld what seemed to be a field of pinpoints of light. It looked like nothing so much as a star-filled night sky.

”Is... Is that another world?” he breathed in astonishment.

The terrific clattering of more chains interrupted his thoughts.

The armored clay figurine stopped, staring blankly into the space crack as though waiting for something.

Meanwhile, the noise was coming closer and closer.

”What a horrible sound!” he cried, though his own voice was swallowed up in it.

It was a titanic din, like the collision of mountains.

A moment passed. Just as Darren began to think the noise would drive him mad, he happened to look into the space crack again. What he saw made him sweat harder than before.

From the distant starry void came an entire crowd of beings; all of them were clay figurines like the one that had captured Darren.

They were similarly armored, but the dark auras that surrounded each of them were even stronger and more intimidating than that of the first one.

Dozens of clay figurines formed a team, and each team pulled a gray chain that was ten feet thick. There looked to be total of eighteen groups.

Faced with this sight, Darren's alarm over his own capture was overpowered by sheer curiosity. Someone or something was being held captive by those eighteen enormous fetters.