"Two hundred and thirty-five years had passed since my last breakthrough. Never before had it taken this long." Wang Xuan murmured to himself. This was the longest he had ever spent breaking through, surpassing all previous times.
He stood in the Depths of Hell, looking at one Dead City after another.
All the Wanderers were in a state of decay, their consciousness completely erased. They had undergone a harsh Mythological Formatting, without a single exception.
"City Lords, an old friend has come calling, yet no one comes out to reminisce. How sad, how lamentable—there is nowhere to speak of this desolation." Wang Xuan walked across the land, passing many enormous cities.
No matter how resounding their names had once been—Heavenly Venerable, Earth Emperor, and the like—they had forever bid farewell to the previous era. The City Lords everywhere had all returned to the state of rotting corpses.
In truth, nearly all the City Lords he knew had been sent into the Twilight Strange Landscape. If any fish that had slipped through the net saw him and still retained consciousness, they would probably either flee or fight for their lives.
"It has been a long time since I saw towering mountains and dense forests." Wang Xuan murmured. Not to mention rivers beneath a setting sun, or snowy vistas across ice fields. The mythical tide had separated from the real universe, and all such splendid scenes had vanished.
He looked at the lush mountain forest and felt an exceptional sense of familiarity.
Wang Xuan took a deep breath, preparing to undergo tribulation in the Depths of Hell.
The crown of his head began to glow, dazzling beyond compare. It outshone Hell's red sun and illuminated the heavens, covering the nearby giant cities, the majestic mountains, and the broad rivers in a layer