As Heaven and Spirit Mountain returned to tranquility once more, Wang Ye finally stepped out of that tree.
With a hint of helplessness, Wang Ye looked up at the sky and sighed mournfully. "I finally managed to save up enough for some avatars, and just like that, I lost three of them."
His miserable voice was enough to bring tears to anyone's eyes.
Yet the very next second, Wang Ye kept the same pained expression and waved his hand.
A thick stack of human skin appeared in his hand.
There were probably as many as one of those big packs of A4 paper sold for printers.
To put it simply, five hundred sheets per pack.
"Unfortunately, with my current mental strength, I can only control a few at a time."
"Otherwise, putting together a Wang Ye Legion would sound pretty awesome."
As he spoke, Wang Ye shook his head regretfully.
One of the skins moved without any wind, floating into the air as its body gradually filled out.
The face painted on it was unmistakably Maitreya's.
The troublesome part of making these avatars was that he had to paint the face in advance.
To be safe, Wang Ye had prepared quite thoroughly. He probably had dozens of Maitreya skins in stock alone.
So—
It was not wrong for Wang Ye to call himself a painter.
If his painting skills were too poor, this thing would not work either. It would be easy for others to spot the flaws.
This latest Maitreya skin carried a touch of carefree charm. After casually putting on a monk's robe, it headed toward Spirit Mountain.
As the saying went—
Rise again after every defeat.
Sooner or later, that would let one stand atop the world.
The strong were all forged through failure.
And Wang Ye