The shattered world reassembled, the fractured rifts silently melding together as the crimson glow faded away.
Gu Jianlin once again traversed back into the dark, eerie Ancient Tomb, the cold desolation engulfing him.
When his consciousness returned from a brief daze, he suddenly realized he was lying once more in that golden coffin, wrapped in deathly pale mummy cloth and bound by chains as dark as dragon bones, resembling a devil trapped in a prison.
Having experienced this once before, he was already accustomed to it.
What truly shocked him, though, was that he underwent Ancient God Transformation again!
Grotesque qilin horns, fearsome bone spurs, black dragon scales covering his entire body, and chillingly sharp claws.
However, this time, the transformation seemed to be mere appearance only.
It had only given him the physical form of a Qilin, but the tearing sensation inside his body persisted.
Nor did he feel that divine fury-like power surging throughout him.
