Silence.
Only the echoes of the clock swayed in the hollow room.
From Minerva's gaze, Zhou Cheng was already drenched in sweat.
He tried several times to open his mouth, but no words came out.
No matter how hard he tried to muster his spiritual energy and lift his spirits, all he felt was an increasingly clear and overwhelming fear.
It wasn’t just Minerva.
It was as if something even more ferocious and sinister, lurking behind this fleeting illusion, cast a disdainful glance at him.
The thing Bai Lu hated most about Tianyuan was that Tianyuan was like a lock.
Everyone within it had their own place and chains.
The meaning of the individual was infinitely diluted by the group, unable to exist beyond their assigned position.
Chains and authority shared the same origin.
Order and shackles coexisted.
Even if you weren’t a follower of Tianyuan, once you were within it, you would be subtly assimilated, becoming one of the faceless, mass-produced products.
But now, when Wen Wen threw the chains aside and merely made a gesture to break the damn chains, what Zhou Cheng felt was the ironclad nature of the Desolate Ruins’ path.
The majesty and terror of something merciless!
Even though they were both Chosen Ones, the gap between them couldn’t be measured in mere inches—it was like the difference between heaven and earth.