There were differences even between shades of black.
Without waiting for the two people behind him to finish their conversation, Fu Qian quickly crossed the boundary of Gray Descent.
Nothing especially strange happened, but the sight of it alone left a deep impression.
It was night on both sides, but one could at least still imagine nightlife on one side, while the other only stirred endless thoughts of what lay beyond.
It wasn't spreading very quickly, but it had undoubtedly swallowed quite a few people already.
The area wasn't especially crowded, but the bar made a good starting point for a fire—
It had plenty of kindling, and wouldn't draw the attention of too many demigods right away. It was also not too far from the prophet, so the spread would likely reach there soon.
And since he was at the edge of it, he wasn't the only one who witnessed the upheaval.
Yet the people of Unseen Hill didn't scatter and run.
On the contrary, more than a few faces showed relief, as if they'd finally received a terminal diagnosis after a lifetime of toil.
Had the long ordeal since the prophet's disappearance really worn them down that much?
Fu Qian didn't sneer at them for being numb or indifferent. In that moment, he understood their reaction perfectly.
When the courage to run toward "freedom" was repeatedly crushed before it could be acted upon, something else was bound to twist and fester in its place.
The more interesting thing was that the two choices seemed to lead to nearly the same result.
"Why the rush to leave?"
Unfortunately, not everyone saw it that way. The next moment, an elusive voice rang out, as if it had been waiting for him.
Before Fu Qian could even respond, the towering spire