Boom!
The seemingly heavy door collapsed in an instant. Smoke and dust rolled past Lioz's feet, while the cold, damp air from deep within the tomb surged toward him like a tide. His hair stood on end, and the rustling chill wind pierced him like needles, seeping into his body through every pore as though it wanted to churn and tear apart even his marrow.
There was an old saying on Earth: when a man left, the tea went cold; when a tiger died, its might remained.
The first part clearly did not apply, but the latter was displayed perfectly at this moment.
As expected of the mausoleum of the legendary demigod Profound Rock Lord. Even centuries after his death, the air still carried a terrifying pressure. It was like the despair of an ant looking up at a giant; even taking one more breath made terror rise in his heart, as though he were being disrespectful toward him.
If there had been a system right now, he would definitely have been covered in every kind of negative debuff. Even Lioz, whose will was extraordinarily firm, was not entirely without fear before a demigod's tomb. Instead, a strange, mournful empathy rose within him.
Perhaps it was because the other party had already stepped halfway into the ranks of the gods and could almost be called one of his kin, yet had likewise died before achieving his ambition.
A hero of the old resistance, a Deified Person of Star Abyss, a great man granted lordship—yet he had ended up like this. The empty altar was covered in dust, and no one had ever come to mourn him. It was as though this demigod was using his fate to warn those who came after him: do not become obsessed with power and