Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!

Wang Zhong strode within a grand, spacious, and ancient hall by himself. Muffled and heavy footsteps drifted through the surroundings as he strode on the hard and pitch black ground in the hall.

He wore blood red clothes, had an icy cold gaze that was sharp like a bolt of lightning, and his entire body was suffused with a supreme and deep aura. When compared to the past, he had an aura of experience and age as if he’d experienced the baptism of time.

This hall was extremely ancient. It was pitch black like the eternal veil of night, and only a strand of flames that was bright red like blood flickered extremely far away in the depths of the hall.

It was like the blood red pupil of a ferocious beast that was lying dormant in the dark and silent hall.

The atmosphere here was deathly silent, and it carried a horrifying aura.

As he moved further ahead, Wang Zhong’s expression grew more and more calm and composed. He seemed to be very familiar with this place, and no fluctuations of emotion could be noticed from him.

“You’ve returned.” After an unknown period of time, an aged, indifferent, hoarse, and deep voice suddenly resounded, and it reverberated in the hall yet felt indistinct.

Wang Zhong suddenly stopped moving,...