A thousand years later.
In the outer regions of Crimson Heaven.
A figure was speeding over.
So fast that—
The weak could scarcely perceive it.
They could only sense some incomparably immense power flashing past from afar.
Even so.
That immense power might still crush, like ants, anyone it passed by in an instant.
However.
After the figure truly approached Crimson Heaven.
And gazed into the blood-red vortex resembling a gigantic eye.
The expression on his face could not help but turn solemn and grave in the face of that utterly unrestrained power!
Even among existences of the same level, their strengths should theoretically have been more or less on the same plane, without any absolute disparity.
Yet when the newcomer sensed the immense power entrenched ahead.
A fleeting trace of fear still instinctively rose within his heart.
There was no need for close observation.
Merely catching a rough glimpse of its outline and circumstances.
Like observing a towering mountain and seeing only a few scattered details.
Simply taking a cursory look at Crimson Heaven, which was part of Orsaga's external manifestation, was enough for him to clearly confirm that he was absolutely no match for the other party.
One ten-thousandth, one millionth, one hundred-millionth...
He felt that.
His Abyss Layer probably was not much larger than some remote village corner when compared with Crimson Heaven.
Faced with this reality, and recalling how he and Orsaga had at least been able to trade blows when they first met.
The newcomer could not help but sigh.
He deeply understood that he had long since been left far behind by the other party...
It gave him a keen sense that times had changed, and change did not bend to one's will.
For a time.
He felt somewhat bitter.
He watched another raise