Chapter 6424

The figure on the right was the complete opposite.

He was thin and lean, standing upright, but without the fierce, charging pressure of a frontline warrior.

His face was cold and sinister, his complexion pale as though sunlight had never touched him. There was no trace of warmth or blood in it—just one look was enough to send a chill straight into the bones.

In his hand, he held an ancient, unadorned fly whisk.

The white strands were fine yet unnervingly tough. Even as the harsh winds of the wasteland howled around it, they did not move at all—not a single tremor. It was clearly no ordinary artifact.

This was the ancient relic known as the Firmament Snare.