Primordial Black Dragons appeared all around in great swathes, each identical to him, without the slightest discernible difference.
Above, below, left, right-whichever way he looked, they were everywhere.
How could the Black Dragon not want to comfort himself, to numb himself with the word "illusions"?
He had spread his divine sense at the first opportunity, yet no matter whom he examined, every one of them possessed genuine cultivation accumulated over tens of millions of years. None of it could be faked.
This was absolutely not something mere illusions could accomplish.
Besides, the Black Dragon had just fought one of those Primordial Black Dragons with all his strength. How could he not know whether it was an illusion?
At a glance, there were at least three or four hundred versions of himself. Size, strength, Saint Dragon bloodline... without exception, they all looked as though they had been carved from the same mold.
Snap! The Black Dragon's composure shattered!
He could not understand what had happened to this world. Why had something so bizarre and uncanny appeared?
"Y-you, who exactly are you?! And how did you do something like this?" The Black Dragon turned his gaze back to Chen Mu and demanded loudly.
Chen Mu could no longer be bothered to waste his breath on the Black Dragon. As he raised his hand, the Primordial Black Dragons opened their abyssal maws one after another, waves of flame churning violently within.
An intense sense of impending death swept through the Black Dragon's body and mind.
He knew better than anyone that one Primordial Black Dragon was manageable, but if he faced hundreds of copies whose strength matched his own exactly...
Without a doubt, only death awaited him. Only death!
The Black Dragon understood perfectly what Chen Mu meant by this gesture. At the