Yet compared to those distant entities that served as the backdrop of the universe, what surrounded—no, what tightly enshrouded the planet beneath Meng Chao's feet, known as the Otherworld, left him even more astonished, shaken, and afraid.
They were wreckage.
Endless wreckage.
The wreckage of endless starships and colossal spacecraft.
Countless gigantic wrecks, packed so densely they blotted out the sky and sun, were scattered across the Otherworld's synchronous orbit like the dense floating corpses of insects in a pond on an autumn wasteland.
Though the vast majority of the wreckage had long since shattered into fragments, even the smallest components torn loose from them were ten times larger than Dragon City's most massive Armored Airships.
From their brutally ripped cross-sections, hair-thin conduits, Crystal Cables, and chips lay exposed. After enduring hundreds of millions of years of cosmic radiation and the erosion of time, they remained crystalline and pristine, as fresh as ever, displaying a technological power that human civilization could neither reach nor even comprehend.
As for the largely intact starships that had escaped destruction, they resembled cities floating amid the sea of stars.
Even with the boundless universe as their curtain, they still radiated a presence capable of swallowing mountains and rivers.
With only a casual glance, Meng Chao could envision the overwhelming aura they had possessed when they were still "alive," when they had commanded the winds and clouds and crushed all before them. A suffocating sensation of being ground to dust rose faintly within him.
And amid the wreckage of countless starships and spacecraft were mixed countless monster carcasses.
They were all true Primordial Behemoths.
Their lengths routinely exceeded three or five kilometers.
Their pitch-black carapaces, like the hulls of the starships, had withstood hundreds of millions of years of impacts from meteors and radiation, yet