Mist swirled like a giant pillar, shooting straight into the heavens.
At this moment, as Myriad Transformation Paradise unfolded once more, countless souls infected with Dream Loss Syndrome left their bodies. Their spirit forms drifted in like corpses borne upon the waves, ensnared by roots one after another, utterly squeezed dry, leaving only lingering desires that could find no release, turning into moths that rose and fell.
Countless souls had fallen into this dream overnight. The places involved were not merely the Thousand Isles, but also Central Earth, the Empire, and even the Federation.
Such a massive display could not escape other eyes, even in these remote seas.
"After watching from the sidelines for so long, why say nothing, Locksmith?"
Without turning his head, Wen Zheng suddenly asked, "Since you've come, why not show yourself? It's rare for us to be this peaceful with one another."
"Quite a spectacle, Guide."
A wavering figure appeared out of thin air behind Wen Zheng. His aged face was cold as he glanced around. "But why do you hold us in such contempt?"
Such an enormous display, yet without the slightest attempt at concealment.
Like a provocation, laid bare before everyone's eyes.
It was almost like a declaration of war.
"Hmm. Sir Tian Yi?"
Wen Zheng looked back, seeming somewhat surprised, and smiled softly. "I thought it would be that stubborn old Heavenly Furnace—though how could this be called contempt?
The children are just making a fuss. Surely we adults needn't take it seriously and join them in their nonsense?"
"Hah—"
Tian Yi sneered. "After all these years apart, I see you've made no progress. Though in smooth-talking and sophistry, you have surpassed your former self."
"Then let's speak of something practical."
Wen Zheng rubbed his chin and suddenly suggested, "How about making a