The Touch of the Old Days was far faster than Ling An had imagined.
While he was still racing across the Boundless Sea Horizon, that immense power had already returned.
They blotted out the sun, standing in the sky and gazing silently down at Ling An.
A thick, bloody aura festered over their body.
"What have you done!" Ling An glared at them, his eyes nearly splitting with rage.
"Don't be so nervous. Don't you possess half the authority of war? Sense it yourself. Hahaha."
The Touch of the Old Days laughed aloud, as though mocking Ling An's helplessness.
Ling An forced himself to calm down. He was at such an overwhelming disadvantage that panic had briefly robbed him of his senses.
He knew full well that the Touch of the Old Days had gone to Jinzhou.
Clinging to his last shred of hope, Ling An extended his senses toward Jinzhou.
At that very moment, countless frequencies were dissipating above that familiar city.
It was death.
As though struck by a sledgehammer, Ling An stood frozen.
"It seems you've sensed it. I did this for your own good, too. The more people die, the stronger you become. I told you long ago that we're birds of a feather."
A tear fell into the sea.
Powerlessly, Ling An received the frequencies drifting to him across the ocean.
He wanted to refuse them.
Every frequency that spread toward him carried the scent of blood and something familiar.
"Of course, having taken control of the other half of Dreamless, I possess this authority too. Hahahahaha!"
The Touch of the Old Days burst into wild laughter, ravenously plundering the frequencies dissipating from the dead city.
Whatever Ling An could do, they could do as well.
Whatever Ling An could not do, they could do