In the vast hall at the northwest area.

Just like before, Shang Kun sat cross-legged by himself on the throne at the center of the hall. The hall was empty and grand like a Daoist hall where the gods of ancient times gathered, and it emitted a solemn aura from every corner.

As he sat cross-legged there by himself, Shang Kun frequently had the feeling of looking down upon all things, as if he’d transformed into a god that controlled the entire heavens and the earth.

He liked and enjoyed this feeling of controlling everything.

Control was sometimes even more terrifying than destruction. Because if one could control the rise and fall of the world, the life and death of all beings, and the alternation between all things, then would there be anything in this world that one was unable to accomplish?

If you were willed to live, then even the god of death couldn’t take you away.

If you were willed to die, then no one in the universe could save you.

This was control, the final objective that Shang Kun pursued since he was young.

Moreover, he knew that he would only be able to attain his goal by entering the Dark Reverie and becoming a Heavenly Immortal or an even higher existence. So even if he enjoyed the supreme feeling created by this hall,...