This space is collapsing, heading towards destruction, as if even time has lost its meaning, everything is dissipating, turning into nothingness.
Jiang Hui's Primordial Spirit swayed in this collapsing torrent, faintly, he saw an altar appear in this chaos that was about to vanish.
The altar was boundlessly dark, without a glimmer of light, as if shrouded in eternal darkness,
at its edges lay decaying palaces, buried by endless years, illusory and ethereal, like a mirage.
In the center of the altar, spirit tablets were enshrined, each exuding a strange and mysterious aura, seemingly symbolizing some unspeakable forbidden power.
The face of the Tenth Ancestor turned exceedingly grim at this moment, eyes widened, staring intently at the collapsing altar.
