In the Alchemical World, the world will was rapidly contracting, constantly retreating.
It tried to pull itself away from the regions already covered by Myriad Phenomena and retreat to its final core region.
But this was ultimately futile.
It was merely rotten wood without roots, destined to come crashing down one day.
Its movements grew slower and slower. Its feet were still moving, but its steps became smaller and more sluggish.
As if sensing its own irreversible fate, the world will could not help letting out a mournful cry.
Above Alchemy Main City, as the chaotic mist gradually dispersed, everything around them seemed to return to normal. The sky and the earth came into view.
But... everything seemed to have changed.
The cheers atop the city walls gradually died down. Those who had survived looked at the dark, thunderous sky and seemed able to feel the world's lament.
The alchemists felt it most deeply. They had spent their entire lives familiarizing themselves with the laws of the world and mastering the true names of its laws.
Now, the world was wailing, and the laws were in chaos.
Everything seemed to be telling them one thing.
The world was ending...
Some raised their heads to look at the sky, at the thinning clouds and the earth whose colors were changing.
Others lowered their heads to look at their hands, at the alchemical formation marks in their palms that were gradually fading.
An alchemist sitting beneath the city wall laid both hands flat on his knees and lowered his head to look at the outlines of the patterns in his palms, which had already vanished completely.
He looked for a long time, until drops of rain began falling into his palms.
He raised his head and looked at the sky.
It was