The Bronze Bell swayed gently, the Ancient Cauldron floated heavily, and the Golden Divine Tower shone brightly, making the Ninth Treasure Hall a dazzling sight. Various rare treasures glittered. They were clearly not ordinary objects. Many were Weapons personally forged by great figures, radiating terrifying waves and shining brilliantly.
Yet none of these could attract Ye Fan's attention; his eyes were fixed on that dry corpse, an inexplicable Qi Mechanism drawing them together.
He seemed to see another version of himself, his bloodline withered, sitting in meditation until he transformed into a cold corpse, having passed away in cultivation here.
This was a strange illusion generated by the contact between similar entities, giving him an unusual feeling. It was as if his Heart Spirit had traveled back to ancient times, merging into this corpse, experiencing an emotion.
Much later, Ye Fan awoke as if from a dream and stepped forward, one step at a time.
