Mists twisted and spiraled like massive pillars, soaring straight into the heavens.
At this moment, as the Myriad Transformations Paradise unfolded once again, countless souls infected by Dream-Loss Syndrome detached from their bodies.
Their spiritual forms, lifeless like corpses, drifted along the waves, ensnared by countless tree roots, completely drained dry.
Only their lingering desires remained, restless and unable to find release, fluttering like moths puzzled in flight.
Uncountable souls plummeted into this dream throughout the night.
The affected places were not only the Thousand Islands but also the Central Lands, the Empire, and even the Federation.
Such a grand spectacle, even in remote seas, could not escape the notice of other watchful eyes.
“You’ve been watching from the side for so long, why not say something, ‘Locksmith’?”
Wen Zheng suddenly asked without turning his head, “Since you’re here, why not show yourself? Rarely do we have moments of such peace between us.”
“A rare big scene indeed, guide,”
A fleeting figure appeared silently behind Wen Zheng.
The aged face cast a cold glance: “But tell me, why such disdain towards us?”
So vast and mighty a spectacle, yet there was no attempt to hide it.
It was right there before everyone’s eyes, almost like an open provocation.
Almost like a declaration of war...