The dark-gold fragments drifting through the hall completely faded away. Like ashes after a fire, they silently melted into the cold void.
The empty space once again fell into a deathly silence.
Aiden stood quietly at the end of the golden corridor. The mark of the Golden Great Wall on the back of his right hand was still giving off a faint warmth.
In his mind, the final words of Yves, the Supreme Divine Craftsman, continued to echo—words that had carried a heavy duty across tens of millions of years.
"Hah…"
Aiden let out a long breath, slowly calming his shaken mind.
He turned his head and looked at the blond girl's phantom beside him. Her figure had become so faint that she was almost transparent.
Zoey floated quietly in the air. A complicated light flashed in her clear sapphire eyes. There was sadness, but also a trace of relief.
"Master… he still left those words behind in the end."
