Moving along the grass, hills, Lin Xin stepped slowly toward the windmill.
The sky was overcast, as if painted in ink, and countless blades of grass grew on the black soil of the ground.
But these blades of grass gave Lin Xin the feeling as if they were fixed in place, transplanted from elsewhere.
They seemed to be planted upright in the soil.
He walked with great difficulty, occasionally checking his attributes bar; the attributes remained unchanged.
"Since my power attributes are intact, then the problem lies in this space."
Lin Xin suddenly stopped, then carefully surveyed his surroundings.
"If this place truly possesses pure gravity that can suppress me to this extent, then everything, every item here might....."
He slowly crouched down and reached into the soil beneath with a hard dig.
Hiss..
The black soil was grabbed into a handful by his five fingers.
The soil here was soft, very loose.
Lin Xin carefully looked at the handful of black soil, squinting slightly.
