The dazzling armor, adorned with pale golden patterns, featured a silver-white cloak that fluttered slightly in the wind behind him. Beneath the platinum-gold glow, Wang Lan's features were faintly visible. At this moment, people would believe it if someone claimed Wang Lan was a God of Heaven who had descended.
The problem is, where the hell did the cloak come from?
Given that repairing the Phoenix Saint Cloth required metallic materials, Wang Lan hadn't added even a shred of fabric.
He curiously reached out and touched the fabric of the cloak. It was silky, soft, and light, yet Wang Lan was certain it wasn't ordinary cloth or silk, but rather something possessing the fluidity of liquid metal.
Since he couldn't figure it out, there was no point dwelling on it. He'd shown off enough. With a mere thought, the Saint Cloth on Wang Lan instantly disassembled, reassembling once more into a phoenix sculpture.
