In the dim hall, countless translucent faces hovered within the alchemy matrix above the ceiling, where the souls of the deceased were refitted with source substance and records to form nearly perfect pseudo spirit body replicas.
At this moment, countless voices continuously echoed by He Di's ears.
"Your progress has been slow."
"When will it end if it keeps going like this?"
"Changes must be made."
"Otherwise, we will suffocate to death."
"I said earlier, we should use Rome's mystical rituals, and the outdated Greek ones are useless."
"Regretting now won't help and will only increase internal chaos, our talents are no match for Publius."
"But Publius has no strength left... blood, spirit, shell, and bones, after so many fractures, does he really still possess his original talent?"
"If I may say, I think creating gods is idiotic, you guys should try my project instead..."
