Qitian could clearly sense that the last believer in his Divine Kingdom had also perished.
His Divinity was collapsing, and his consciousness was nearing its end.
Yang Fan took a sip of Monkey Wine, his tone calm.
"I just found you somewhat interesting."
"Besides, the first fortune I ever made also came from a monkey-race Demigod."
Qitian froze for a moment, then laughed softly.
"So that was it... Then I should thank that karmic connection."
"At least it let me drink this at the end."
He slowly rose to his feet.
At that moment, there was no fear in his eyes—only the relief that came after long-suppressed restraint.
During the thousands of years he had been imprisoned, his consciousness could only drift through his Divine Kingdom while the real world remained utterly silent.
He had witnessed countless Divine Kingdom Wars, Devouring, and reconstructions, yet he had never truly been able to touch the world.
Freedom had become his sole obsession.
And now, that obsession had finally reached its end.
Qitian looked toward the shattered sky in the distance and suddenly spoke.
"Once I trod golden seas and broke star tides, laughing as I pointed at gods who dared not rise."
"Youthful madness swallowed heaven and earth; one thought locked ten thousand realms away."
"A thousand years in cages ground bone and blood, myriad shackles bound the wind and waves."
"If asked today what I am, I am but a strand of fur drifting on the wind."
The instant his voice fell, his figure completely faded away.
Like wind scattering, like dust vanishing.
Qitian's consciousness completely dissipated between heaven and earth.
"That monkey was rather interesting."
Yang Fan murmured, casually draining the Monkey Wine from his cup.
"Unfortunately, anyone who knows my Divine Kingdom Coordinates must die."
The next moment, he