Standing there in dead silence, Green was dull and rigid.
Ten years, a hundred years of slumber, Green could endure, but spending time in units of millennia, sinking into sleep again and again—Green could not do it!
Thus, from the Matrix Guardian hidden beneath the Temporal Fault under the Skeleton Land, he came to the surface, gazing at the boundless, empty expanse of bone and earth, and let out a sigh.
Compared to the Piercing Gate, this place was far too vast and desolate.
"Wizard World…"
An indescribable yearning stirred in his heart.
He had been away from Wizard World for far too long, so long that the actual years Green had now experienced surpassed some Ancient Wizards; after this Civilization War, it would not be an exaggeration to call Green a Prehistoric Wizard.
"No higher pursuit, not even the ability to sleep… This irritable urge toward self‑destruction—who knows if it's a biological instinct, or one of the Dimensional Esophagus's own digestive rules…"
