Several experts of the Primordial World were tidying up the surrounding formations. The defenses had gradually taken shape; once they activated the formations and linked the surrounding area together, they would be able to restore the great formation.
Once the great formation was restored, none of the monsters and fiends outside would be able to get in.
The Primordial World had its own laws. To break through its defenses, they first had to break its formations.
Only by using the Primordial World's laws to shatter its laws could they invade it.
The White-Robed Commander was cautious. Although he could see that the formation was about to be repaired, he still had not made a move.
He kept observing how the entire Primordial World operated.
Whether it was the laws governing the formations, illusion arts, or even the various attacks used by the Primordial World's experts, he committed them all to memory. This was how he fought.
Using an enemy's laws to defeat that enemy was not difficult.
For a genius like him, it was as easy as turning over his hand.
Although, as he stood now, he was a loser.
He had enjoyed his own days of glory back then.
He had once slaughtered countless worlds single-handedly. The blood of countless worlds had forged him into what he was today.
The laws of this tiny Primordial World might be rather complicated, but they still could not change his desires. He was a supreme expert who specialized in hunting down worlds.
At the same time, he looked around somewhat nervously. For some reason, the appearance of the Human Race and the various methods emerging within the Primordial World left him deeply puzzled.
Many things appeared to be new methods on the surface, but they actually had identifiable origins. He could connect