The Blood-colored Crystal Marks summoned by Lord Rome might have been more visually striking.
But in terms of power—such as the most direct effect of lowering Sanity Value—they were still nothing more than a clumsy imitation.
The storm at the point of impact, utterly devoid of blood, took ten points of Sanity Value from you the moment you touched it.
Even now, it stood out like a crane among the "Blossoms."
So Lord Rome wasn't the master of the Inverted Lake after all? That answered one of the questions from earlier.
Could that storm, with no visible source, have blown straight out of the Graveyard of Gods?
From that perspective, calling the "point of impact" in the sea a Higher Being's "falling point" actually made sense.
Akons's barrier had protected the Sea of Mind, but not the actual sea?
Lord Rome still refused to show up and explain. Fu Qian paid no mind to his steadily dropping Sanity Value, silently recalling the various places he had explored.
Everything seemed to be growing abstract, until the entire world had become unrecognizable.
Yet now, because of a storm, everything seemed to be connecting again.
The only problem was that he didn't recall seeing any crystals in the Burial Ground—except for those soap bubbles that seemed to have fused together.
Fu Qian had once reached the border of the Graveyard of Gods. The scene there had felt strangely similar to this one.
It was like a calm lake had frozen and shattered, trapping the bodies of fish inside.
Could it really be a coincidence?
Even if it wasn't, that still wasn't enough to explain where the Burial Ground's storm had come from.
"Don't you have anything to say, sir?"
Knowing that Lord Rome might not know the answer—and even if he did, might