Cangwu River water didn’t feel like liquid at all.
It felt like liquid lead poured over Lu Chen’s skull. It crushed his ears with an immediate, choking weight.
Light died within five paces.
The sickly yellow glow of the lanterns above vanished into an oily brown gloom, then dissolved into total, choking darkness.
Eight paces. Twelve paces. Sixteen paces.
The heat plummeted.
Ordinary river water in late autumn hovered around four or five degrees above freezing.
Here, in the depths of the Black Pool, the water was unnaturally freezing. Sub-zero rotting chill that defied the natural laws of ice.
