Three days later, Wenren Sheng laid Liu Jian's ancient tomb to rest in a place no one could have imagined.
Then he recalled the Puppet Man and looked at the empty Blood Island before him.
The air still carried a lingering stench of blood.
The Black Robed Men, the three great mystic species, and the Dark World had all become passing clouds.
It felt dull and empty, leaving a hollow space in his heart.
Like finishing an animated series as a child, or clearing a game after growing up.
"Do you find it boring?" Aihandebu popped up again at that moment.
"You saw Liu Jian's battle. Can you tell me about it?" Wenren Sheng sat at the castle gates and asked casually.
"Sure. When you cast in the first sacrifice, he lost one hand. Then he was attacked by two Gold Badge Black Robed Men Kings. But he was strong—unexpectedly strong. He unleashed all his fury and absorbed their souls and mystic species into his own body."
"Actually, you owe your escape to his sacrifice. Otherwise, even if you thought to search for an exit at the bottom of the Blood Pool, you might not have made it out."
"You thought you could at least save the people around you, but in the end, it was the other way around."
Even now, it did not forget to attack his mental defenses. It really was a 2B.
In truth, he was not that saddened. For Liu Jian, this was getting what he had wished for—transcendence and ascension.
Besides, he had not truly died. It was merely perhaps more painful than death.
Wenren Sheng shook his head. "He was brave. He surpassed himself."
"Actually, I never thought he would sacrifice himself. He could have escaped completely, or abandoned his mystic species and