The Nameless Old Dragon Returns from the Apocalypse, Shadow Hordes' Nature as Cold as Bronze

"Was it really worth it, old friend? After everything you've been through, you're still letting history follow the same mistakes as before?"

A voice rang beside Shadow Hordes' ear, like a lonely old dragon uttering a hoarse murmur.

But Shadow Hordes ignored it completely.

He looked different from before. Some change had taken place within him. The calm confidence he had possessed during his first journey through time, when he had first encountered the First Lantern, had vanished without a trace.

A heavy twilight gloom had settled in his eyes. It was as if, after countless cycles of reincarnation, despair and fury had been drained away again and again, leaving behind only the battered shell pursuing his goal and a dull, lifeless aura.

"You know perfectly well that the World Forger's promise is nothing but a lie. He'll use a fake person he molded himself to replace everything you're pursuing. Or perhaps, after all this time, you've finally come to your senses and decided to accept that inflatable doll to make up for your lacking emotional support?"

Shadow Hordes still ignored the voice's taunts, even though its words had become viciously cutting.

"Hmm, I know... You plan to try again, don't you? After everything our giant baby has been through, he still wants to resurrect his mother, even at the cost of the multiverse collapsing?"

"Enough," Shadow Hordes said.

"You want to snatch chestnuts from the fire, even if it means becoming the monkey whose paw gets roasted? Do you think the World Forger is an idiot? Do you think starting over will let you defeat him?"

The voice had apparently expected to provoke Shadow Hordes into anger, but the other party merely closed his eyes. "Don't waste your effort, old friend. You won't convince me. Save your strength."

Thus,