Vishy had thought seven wings were the pinnacle of authority and aesthetics, guiding the Silver of Knowledge, the Gold of Time, the Color of Dreams, the Strangeness of Gems, the Darkness of Hell, and the Light of the Secret Domain with supreme light. All kinds of Spell Power were like All rivers flow into the sea, like a sovereign ruling ministers, like heaven governing the pole, completely natural and flawless. So much so that he currently still had two greedy thoughts about Ash, one of which was to dismantle Ash's Supreme Void Wing and install it on himself, ascending to the supreme peak of arcane arts.
Until he saw eight wings.
Good followed them; evil adored them too.
Light yearned, and darkness hoped as well.
They were an existence that Transcended all things, the color God had plated over all creation.
You could see everything within those eight wings, as if they carried the Truth of the world. They were clearly eight independent Void Wings, yet Vishy could see a blurry circle. Death, entropy increase, space-time—these insignificant powers were all encompassed by that circle. If seven wings ruled all arts through supremacy, then eight wings gathered mighty power into one body. All was one, and one was all.
Because the eight wings were simply too dazzling, Vishy could not even make out her appearance, and could only vaguely see a familiar outline.
Before her stood a tree, but on closer inspection, it was actually a golden river. It was only that the river had split into countless branches, and those branches kept splitting into new ones, so at first glance, it looked like a Golden Tree with luxuriant boughs and leaves.
At the tip of every branch on the Golden Tree was a point of light. She reached out and