Crash~
Unfurling twelve pitch-black wings, Zhu Haomiao stood at the boundary between reality and illusion, where physical directions lost their meaning. One city was to his left and another to his right, as a magnificent and elegant Golden Holy Grail suspended before him.
In a horizon beyond mortal perception, Zhu Haomiao saw endless mists rising from the side of reality, converging into the Holy Grail and condensing into droplets of blood-red liquid.
"Truthfulness... It can actually steal the reality of the real world..."
"The heretical path of the Nihility Sect..."
A muttered whisper echoed next to Zhu Haomiao's ear, as a calm and amiable old voice spoke.
"This is not some heretical path; it is an exploration of a higher narrative plane."
Turning his head, a white old man dressed in a linen hooded robe suddenly appeared, staring bemusedly at Zhu Haomiao.
