Zhao Cheng's current feeling was that the world was simply too fragile. Beyond that, once his power crossed a certain threshold, what it displayed was an utterly amplified effect.
Not only that—after he attained Great Sovereign, perhaps because his two journeys through time had been different, his parallel selves had not vanished this time. Instead, an unimaginable speed of enlightenment had emerged.
Previously, when he enlightened his selves in parallel spacetime, enlightening one took an entire day.
But now, so long as his gaze reached it, any spacetime where he existed would be enlightened in an instant. As for spacetimes where he did not exist, that was impossible.
This was not a matter of power, but because his exploration of the domain of creation was still too shallow. His level was not high enough, so he could not forge anchors out of thin air.
This phenomenon undoubtedly showed one thing: the faster one cultivated, the greater the advantage.
Because the longer the timeline stretched, the higher the odds that one's self in parallel spacetime would die from all kinds of mishaps.
Wuluo was a classic example.
Even Zhao Cheng himself, despite reaching this point in only a few short years, had found that among the hundred thousand-plus parallel spacetimes he had previously observed, roughly one-third of his selves were already dead.
Now, however, following his ascension, the number of parallel spacetimes he could observe from the height of his ninth heaven had reached one hundred and twenty-nine million six hundred thousand.
And as the number of parallel spacetimes surged, the number in which Zhao Cheng did not exist—or had already died—rose directly from one-third to four-fifths.
But even one-fifth still meant over twenty million. So many parallel selves were, at this moment, all enlightened and brought to the same height