The sensation of passing through a dimensional gate created by a Supreme Goddess could in no way be equated to ordinary spatial magic portals. As the wheels of Sylvia's zombie horse carriage passed through the curtain of frozen blue fire and obsidian bones, their entire perception of time and space was seemingly crushed into cosmic dust particles.
There was no light inside that dimensional tunnel; there was only absolute nothingness filled with the whispers of millions of long-forgotten souls. The temperature plummeted past biological freezing limits, bringing a chilling cold that not only pierced the skin, but directly gripped the essence of the soul. Sylvia, with her undead body, certainly did not feel the threat of this cold. Instead, she felt as though she were returning home after a long journey in a scorching desert. Every pore of her dress and shadow absorbed the pure death energy flowing fiercely inside the transition tunnel.
