The tearing sensation of spatial transmission far surpassed anything he had experienced before. It was as if he had been thrown into a rapidly spinning, spike-covered chaotic millstone, every inch of flesh and every wisp of his Divine Soul being madly ground, stretched, and twisted. If not for the toughness of the Chaos Dragon God True Body, along with the final protection of the Circle of Chaos formed by burning his origin, Ling Yun had no doubt that he would have been completely torn apart the instant he entered the dragon tomb.
Even so, when he finally broke free from that extreme agony and crashed heavily onto the hard ground, his insides felt ablaze and his Divine Soul seemed ready to split apart. Even moving a finger was incomparably difficult. He lay on the ground, gasping heavily as golden blood continually spilled from the corner of his mouth, staining the cold ground beneath him red.
Only after a long while did he barely gather a trace of Soul Power and struggle to sit up, warily surveying his surroundings.
The world before him was completely different from anything he had imagined.
There was no sky, no earth, not even a conventional concept of space. He seemed to be within an endless void formed from countless shattered stars, frozen nebulae, twisted Spatial Rifts, and pervasive gray Chaos Qi. In the distance, unimaginably enormous skeletons of creatures floated through the void, winding like mountain ranges and emanating desolate, ancient Dragon Might. Farther away, he could vaguely make out dilapidated palace ruins of vastly different styles, dotting the deathly silent void like tombstones.
The light was extremely dim, and its source was unknown, as though it came from the faint fluorescence emitted by the shattered stars and Chaos Qi themselves. The air was saturated