The Fate Commander who once consumed itself and rewrote its own past was nothing more than a scrap that had fallen off Fusheng Heaven.
When he grasped this cruel reality, a profound despair surged from Li Huowang's heart. In the face of such a powerful entity, what was the point of anything he and the other Fate Commanders had done?
The words Qing Wanglai had once said to him, along with his expression at that moment, floated into Li Huowang's mind. He finally understood why Qing Wanglai had been so hopeless; they had no chance of victory against Fusheng Heaven.
What should I do?
Looking at everything before him, this thought surfaced in Li Huowang's sluggish mind.
What on earth am I supposed to do?
Intense despair morphed into self-destructive urges in Li Huowang's mind, and his expression gradually twisted. This feeling stemmed from a compulsion in his very flesh and blood, something that even Li Huowang, a Xinsu, could not control.
