Tang Changsheng saw danger closing in. His understanding of the world had been overturned; what he perceived was no longer the real world as it was, but a world reconstructed through his own understanding.
At that moment, casting a spell was out of the question. Everything Tang Changsheng saw, heard, and sensed—up and down, length and distance, all six directions of space, even time itself—had broken away from reality and entered a world like an Impressionist painting.
This is bad! Tang Changsheng sensed the danger, and with a flicker of thought, his Primordial Spirit returned to his body.
Strange as his Primordial Spirit's perspective had become, its connection to his physical body remained exceedingly close.
Yet even with his Primordial Spirit back in its vessel, the danger had not passed. Rebuilding that perspective and returning to normal could not be done in a day or two. Even at its fastest, it would probably take ten days to half a month.
Tang Changsheng showed no trace of panic. Cautious by nature, he had long known about the Dao-Building Tribulation. How could he have rushed into it without making any preparations?
With a flick of his fingers, dozens of Yin Soldiers silently took up positions around him. Under normal circumstances, they would have been enough to keep him safe, and he had other measures besides.
Tang Changsheng had not blundered ahead without a care. Before he acted, he had already weighed the risks. Even without an elder beside him to guard him, he was confident of his safety.
Even if the disciples of Whitehead Island turned on him, Tang Changsheng was confident he could deal with them.
Chen Feng had insisted that Whitehead Island and his side had already made peace. But Tang Changsheng would never forget how, the moment he appeared