That white was not the lustrous white of the seawater in the Vast Sea, but a purer, more primordial white—like an enormous sheet of rice paper yet untouched by brush or ink, stretching endlessly from the ground beneath his feet to the horizons in every direction.
There was no earth beneath his feet, no rocks, no seawater—only a layer of white substance like congealed mist, bearing his weight.
Li Bufan swept his gaze across his surroundings. As far as his eyes could see, there was nothing but that immaculate white.
There was no sky, no land, no mountains or rivers, no distinctive terrain whatsoever.
It was as though the entire world had been covered anew by a massive white curtain, erasing every trace of what had been there before.
He spread his divine sense to its fullest extent, sending it out in all directions as he tried to find some familiar point of reference within this boundless white world.
Yet even when his divine sense reached its limit, all that returned was that monotonous, uniform whiteness. There was no other structure at all, as though he were standing in the void itself.
"Looks like the aftershock of that explosion... completely destroyed everything in this space."
Li Bufan murmured softly. His voice produced no echo in the empty white expanse, as if it had been swallowed directly by that world of absolute nothingness.
A complicated, indescribable emotion welled up within him.
He continued forward for a while, carefully sensing his surroundings as he walked.
Although that explosion had destroyed most tangible things, a faint hope still lingered within him. Perhaps Bai Jianzhang and the Elders' souls had found some way to escape the blast at the final moment.
Yet no matter how many times his divine sense swept through this blank