Ronan said nothing more. He was even grateful for the shell of "Wang Yong," which kept the fluctuations of his soul, thoughts, and emotions... Well, the fear in his heart, from being laid too plainly before the Martial Emperor.
Though he knew perfectly well that since the Martial Emperor had brought it up openly, it meant he had failed to hide it.
He truly was afraid.
From then until now, Ronan had always been afraid.
Immersed in that undercurrent of fear that made him unwilling to dream, unwilling to let his thoughts roam free.
He feared the "Six Heavens God Calamity" connected layer by layer to the "Reclamation Corps" and Li Wei—a fatal external crisis that could pounce at any moment. He also feared the "Dream Divine Abomination (Lord of Illusory Nightmare)" that already existed within Earth's spacetime, and the power it had most likely already exerted—a crisis that pierced deep into the essence of the Self...
It could no longer be called a "crisis." It was a cold, merciless "declaration."
An "external crisis" was still something that had yet to happen. Even if all he could do was hope for a miracle, there was still some hope left.
But if the "Tattered God Cape"—the power originating from the "Dream Divine Abomination," or even the "Lord of Illusory Nightmare"—had already acted upon Earth's spacetime forty years ago, stripping away, replacing, and hollowing out certain Underlying Rules, then what was this spacetime? And what were the lives it carried?
Were the twelve billion people on both sides, along with the countless other living beings, real or illusory?
Meaningful or meaningless?
Capable of being changed, or already destined?
If he kept thinking that deeply, Ronan felt he would follow in An Shunji's footsteps.
Well, perhaps he did not know more comprehensively than