As if she had seen through the confusion in Shen Yi's eyes, she chose not to use pale, powerless words to explain the origin and meaning of this sword, nor did she laboriously recount how she had made her way step by step into the depths of the Boundary Land, or how she had been severely wounded by the backlash of that most primordial power while detonating the source of the Black Fog.
Words seemed far too feeble at this moment.
So she chose another method.
Feng Qingyao's dim yet still profound eyes slowly closed, then opened again. A trace of calm passed through them.
With a slight movement of her thoughts—
Buzz—
An invisible wave of will, gentle yet irresistible, silently spread outward from her.
This wave carried no hostility, nor did it contain the aura of any rule-based power. It was more like a pure stream of information from the depths of memory—an invitation.
As the wave spread, the surrounding scene began to undergo a world-shaking transformation.
The first thing to vanish was the crude yet clean wooden cabin.
The beams supporting the roof, the wooden bed beneath them, the wooden table and chairs beside them—all traces of human construction blurred and faded like an ink painting diluted by water, until they completely disappeared.
What followed was the simulated Blue Star wasteland outside the cabin, which changed in sync with the fluctuations of Feng Qingyao's aura.
The azure sky, white clouds, the outlines of distant mountain ranges, the earth beneath their feet carrying the scent of soil and grass—all those familiar sights of home shattered inch by inch like illusions in a mirror, becoming brilliant fragments of flowing light before finally melting into pure, boundless darkness.
Everything became utterly silent.
It was not silence in the sense of