The Saint's Divine Skin was square, over a foot long, perfect and flawless. It was crystalline and nearly transparent, with mysterious and eerie glimmers that unsettled the heart.
Small ancient characters densely covered both sides, numbering in the tens of thousands; ordinary eyesight could hardly decipher them, as the writing was minuscule.
These ancient words were etched like iron hooks and silver strokes, as vigorous as dragons and serpents. They seemed like countless blades and swords set upon it. The Saint's Divine Skin exuded a crystalline gleam, striking the heart and soul with terrifying killing intent.
At this moment, the group felt as if they stood in a land of extreme cold. The bone-chilling coldness made it seem as if they were facing millions of wailing creatures, with visions of mountains of corpses and seas of blood looming before them.
