On the first floor of the Tower of Infinite Enlightenment, six months passed in the blink of an eye.
The gray wastelands had not changed—still filled with drifting mists of resentment, still filled with ghostly cries that never ceased—but Wang Chen had.
After half a year of endless battles, sleepless vigilance, and enough curses to make even the heavens blush, he had finally done it.
"Finally… it's fully repaired."
His voice trembled with excitement as he stared at the Thousand Souls Flag in his hand.
The once-tattered relic, fragile like burnt paper, now pulsed with life. Golden radiance streamed from its surface, the glow soft yet divine, illuminating the desolate world around him. Countless runes, each filled with tremendous power, rippled across the flag like living veins. They intertwined to form sacred sigils that shimmered faintly, bending the air around them.
Even the atmosphere warped—space itself seemed to ripple in awe of the artifact's rebirth.
Then—
