It felt as though he had slept for a very, very long time, yet also like a brief nap at noon.
Everything in the dream faded away rapidly. His mind was not fully awake, and his consciousness had no desire to wake up either.
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Sleep a little longer... maybe?
Unfortunately, there was always noise by his ears.
It felt as though he were in a room full of people, with those around him chatting happily.
"...Ximen Qing, how are things on your end?"
"Could you not call me that name? Why do they get names like Zeus and Anubis?"
"Isn't it just because your luck was bad? All the nice names were taken. Just make do with it. It's still better than that guy who drew Pan Jinlian, right?"
Where was this...?
"How's the front line? Have you fought Bone White Crow?"
"Don't mention it. It joined forces with the Sea God—one can't be hit, and the other can't be killed. How are we supposed to play this?"
"Haha, comrades, we must continue striving!"
"Don't worry, our dream isn't far away. Just a little more—only a little more!"
"Even if we die a hundred times, a thousand times, we will drag those lofty beings down from their divine thrones!"
He opened his eyes in confusion. The Hall of Thrones was packed with people. They chatted cheerfully, argued until their faces turned red, conducted simulations over sand tables, and examined mechanical blueprints.
Everything seemed separated by frosted glass, impossible to see clearly. Only the lofty Golden Throne stood out with striking clarity.
It was empty.
"Where is this... and who... am I..."
"You're awake? You were asleep for a long time just now.