Half an hour ago, at the other end of Helios, the ethereal giant tower woven by light and the blood-colored bone tower stood opposite each other.
Just like the war and confrontation between gods and demons.
A shabby man leaned back in his chair, drinking wine, a representation of one of Publius's split entities, signifying the existence of the Great Grandmaster's Soul.
And right across from him was He Di, with a calm expression.
There was no flaring tension.
No killing intent between them.
"You're fast, He Di, it seems that group of third-rate goods isn't entirely useless."
The drinking Alchemist casually evaluated his former colleagues, high above, yet without ridicule or arrogance.
Just calmly stating the truth.
Even the semi-transparent souls beside He Di did not have any objections.
Those who play with words are destined to never grasp the true essence of Alchemy. Alchemists who have reached this level are clearly aware of their own limits.
