Migration I Heavenly Devil World.
A streak of gray light abruptly appeared on a star in the heartland of the Yuan Devil Sect.
The blazing star continuously radiated light and heat, vast storms of radiation streaming into the universe like an endless sea of waves.
The gray light swiftly condensed into a slender humanoid figure.
The figure had six eyes, a spiked tail, and more than a dozen pairs of arms, each holding a Black Blade. Beneath its feet was a black-and-red lotus-shaped platform, upon which flesh writhed and golden threads flowed.
"Finally back. I hadn't been gone long, but it felt as though a very, very long time had passed." Lu Sheng's expression remained calm as he looked around.
What had returned was merely a tiny fragment of his divine consciousness. To him now, an ordinary universe like the Heavenly Devil World could no longer contain the size of his true body.
Even a slightly stronger divine consciousness fragment or incarnation of his could not enter.
If he sent down an incarnation, then at the instant it descended, perhaps half the Milky Way would vanish. The immense fluctuations instinctively produced by an incarnation's descent—even the ripples alone—could cause countless planets and star systems to quake and explode.
Thus, Lu Sheng had temporarily fashioned a small body to contain the descent of a thought from his main consciousness.
His soul's true body remained in Macro Space as suppression.
Walking across the surface of the star, Lu Sheng felt as though he were strolling through a vast pool of golden slime. His feet were sticky, covered in glue.
"What indescribable disgust." He hated glue. It did not merely hinder movement; more importantly, it tasted terrible.
"Go out."
Impatiently, a strand of red light slowly flashed through one of Lu Sheng's eyes.