The moment Long Chen's consciousness returned fully and his mismatched eyes opened—one burning crimson, the other black with silver patterns swirling in its depths—his mind went blank.
Not the blank of unconsciousness or the blank of losing himself to Slaughter Intent like he'd experienced for the past week.
This was different. Complete. Absolute.
The blood sea dissolved around him, the fortieth floor chamber disappeared, and even the awareness of his own body faded into nothing.
Then he was somewhere else entirely.
Long Chen found himself standing in a room he didn't recognize.
The space was large and circular, with walls made of dark stone that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Spiritual formations covered every surface, glowing with power that made the air itself hum with energy. But these weren't the formations he'd seen in the cultivation world—they were older, more complex, carved with such precision that looking at them too long made his eyes hurt.
