The Poet of Great Love followed Hughberlian up the steps, turning back to make sure her teammates were all ready.
After receiving their confirming looks, the Poet of Great Love continued forward.
"I'll hold on to you properly this time."
Hughberlian softly promised the poet beside her.
The two then stepped into the mysterious deep-purple, mirror-like teleportation gate. The air around the gate rippled in layers under the faint undulations of void power, as though magic were gently dancing across a tranquil lake.
One by one, their figures entered the teleportation gate and vanished, finally merging completely into the void surrounding the deep-purple radiance.
In an instant, the two felt as if they were plummeting rapidly from a sea of stars, experiencing that wondrous sensation of weightlessness once more. The occasional flashes of light and colors intertwined, forming scene after scene of warped visions.
Only when their falling speed began to slow did dazzling light burst from the exit and envelop them in an instant.
"..."
The moment Hughberlian stepped into the space of the Negative Sixth Floor, her pupils trembled faintly.
She found herself standing in the center of a spacious hall resembling a theater. Complex murals covered the lofty dome, depicting the totems of ancient demon-world mythology.
This was a hall even larger than any teleportation hall they had seen before. On the raised platform stood another deep-purple, mirror-like Void Teleportation Gate similar to the previous one.
Their group had not been separated, nor had they encountered any danger. The only difference was that the air on the Negative Sixth Floor was freezing cold, as though they had been placed in a vast snowy wilderness. Not only their joints, but even their thoughts seemed to slow.
As the deepest level, the Negative Sixth Floor did not have separate