Appearance

Dole actually had several ways to explore the traps laid by someone like this, but every one of them came at an enormous cost. The simplest and most brutal method was to throw Corpse Sixty-Five into the core of Babel Tower. That was an independent energy space, completely isolated from the outside world. No matter how capable the Nightmare Patriarch was, there was no way he could extend his power inside.

Thinking of this, Dole looked at the ball of light in his hand, and his expression gradually eased.

Although Corpse Sixty-Four had lost his physical body and had no eyes, he could still perceive the changes in Dole's expression through mental power. Both of them were made of mental power; it was practically zero-distance contact.

When he sensed the change in Dole's expression and state of mind, Corpse Sixty-Five's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't even afraid of an eighth leveler—did this brat have some other trump card?

Back then, the Nightmare Patriarch had shaken the northwestern nations of the West Ring Continent. What he relied on was his dream-entering art, which killed without leaving a trace. Known as the King of Nightmares, no one could even find his true body. In the end, it took the combined action of the eighth-level experts from various nations to end the Nightmare Patriarch's life.

But the Nightmare Patriarch had his own backup plans. Now he had returned from the ashes and rebuilt the Nightmare Empire. He could turn his hand to summon clouds and flip it to cover the rain. How could Dole possibly have a way to deal with him? How was that possible?

He sneered. "You still have time to regret this. Once you go up against the Nightmare Patriarch, you'll immediately become his puppet. You're nothing more than