Target 2

In this Arcane World, no matter how elaborately one played with rules, before an absolute gap in power, they were nothing but bubbles—bursting at the slightest touch.

Bzzzz!!!

Before the old man's terrified eyes, the sword tip came to an abrupt halt, hovering just one centimeter away from him.

Bang!

The enormous sword instantly transformed into countless golden butterflies, which continuously fluttered around the old man.

At the core of the deepest level of the pitch-black abyss, the old man opened his mouth, wanting to say something. But it was already too late.

The countless golden butterflies around him suddenly moved, swooping down onto the surface of his body.

A massive, irresistible corruption began.

Lin Sheng, standing above the infernal volcano, smiled faintly. He knew it was settled.

This old man had hidden within the Arcane World, and who knew how many batches of gods he had harvested.

But unfortunately, his path had been headed in the wrong direction from the very beginning.

No matter how many gods he harvested, that power was only the power of this world itself. He had never truly made it a part of himself.

His true spirit was still no greater than before. He had failed to break past the limit.

Because the power of gods was, in truth, borrowed from the faith of their believers.

That was why the old man could only slumber in the Astral Plane year-round. This was also what had burdened him after he devoured the gods before.

If no one pointed out the path to him, then no matter how many gods he devoured, it would all be meaningless.

Lin Sheng waited quietly.

Before long, a black slit slowly tore open in the blood-red sky before him.

The old man, dressed in white robes, stepped out from within.