Illusory Sea Old Thief Becomes an Allusion, Little Seventh Learns Bad Habits

In the vast, empty hall, countless glittering runes covered every direction—above and below, left and right, in all eight directions. The power hidden within them, held back from bursting forth, was steeped in dangerous intent.

Yet if anyone managed to reach this place, they would not sense that danger at all, because a layer of illusion shrouded it.

Anyone who came here would see only warped space and power that threw the senses into chaos. Even divine consciousness would naturally be twisted along with one's aura.

Bubbles floated in midair, visible only to the naked eye and devoid of the slightest aura. Unfortunately, even if someone truly came here, they would absolutely be unable to see them.

At the very center of the hall, the Table Painting floated there.

Specks of divine light emerged from the Table Painting, forming a narrow black door of light before it. The avatar hunched over and squeezed out through the tiny door.

The moment the avatar saw the Table Painting suspended before him, his vision and five senses were immediately twisted. Everything he saw became an abstract painting in an instant, his senses warped to the extreme, and even the perceptions within his heart began to distort.

Yet he could still sense that every direction was filled with danger.

A bubble drifted beside the avatar on a faint current of disturbed air. The instant it touched his hand, it burst with a pop. His hand froze there, as though he had lost it in that instant and could no longer feel its existence.

Immediately after, the countless killing intents hidden beneath the surroundings erupted. Intersecting rays of light swept past, and the avatar was instantly shredded and vaporized. Even the strand of hair that had become the avatar vanished completely in that moment.

On