At that moment, countless images converged once more, and countless memories flooded Huo Yuhao's Sea of Consciousness, along with the vast tide of emotions those feelings carried.
As Huo Yuhao looked at everything before him, he felt somewhat dazed.
Perhaps the moment Huo Yuhao had arrived in the Demon Plane, it had already been destined that he would come here.
Life force surged within Huo Yuhao's body, and his one exposed eye stared fixedly at the point of light that had appeared in his hand.
The immense negative aura he had sensed since arriving in the Demon Plane, as well as the way this world operated, now had a clear explanation.
Civilization had once been nurtured here and flourished, but unrestrained ambition and desire had burned this place to ashes. Those in high positions had looked down on everything below with their innate arrogance, doing everything according to their own ideas.
As the struggle continued, the wars between those empires had grown increasingly fierce and unscrupulous. Their demand for resources and energy had long since ceased to serve their own needs; instead, it served their greedy desires.
The fires of war kindled by ambition had blazed uncontrollably as well. Countless lives had become firewood, ultimately reduced to ashes, and no one cared about them.
But this inferno had not stopped, for the ambition and desire in the hearts of those in high positions had left them no room to accept compromise or seek peace. They could only race toward ever greater extremes.
Just like the ruins Huo Yuhao had seen in the Demon Plane, such had been the fate of those so-called empires.
Only at the end, looking at the state of the land beneath their feet, had those in high positions realized there was no need to remain here,