Xing Tong's gaze was fixed on the golden figure on the screen, and tears streamed down her face.
She still clearly remembered every detail of the Ancestor's final moments.
He had leaned against a corner of the city wall, left behind the fused laws he had gained from slaying the world's will, entrusted the Rongling Race's future to them, and then dissolved into the world like mist.
That scene was carved into her soul. It was also the most tragic final chapter of the old era of Rongling civilization.
Now, faced with an unbeatable demon legion and watching the Rongling fleet turn to stardust one ship after another in the torrent of destruction, she realized she had been wrong. Their analysis of the dream world had been seriously flawed.
An expedition that had committed the full strength of their civilization had been doomed to end in ruin from the very beginning.
In her despair, she once again found herself thinking of the Ancestor, who had always led the Rongling Race to turn the tide in the face of seemingly hopeless odds.
But this time, she didn't even dare to hope.
How could someone who had witnessed him completely vanish possibly believe he could return from beyond the boundaries between worlds?
Yet the golden sword mark that stretched across heaven and earth cleaved through the despair in her heart, and shattered her understanding of reality.
As a rigorous scholar and leader of her civilization, she had always believed in reason and logic.
She was convinced that everything followed its own inherent laws. Even the most incredible phenomena could be explained within a broader scientific framework that had yet to be discovered.
Miracles, so-called, were simply unknown science beyond the limits of existing knowledge.
This had been proven time and again throughout