A solemn expression settled across Meylin's face as she covered the retreat of the forces of the Nine Empyrean Suns Alliance. She had grown tremendously powerful during the Empyrean–Root War. As the only True Depravita, she could channel the vast tides of psychic energy flooding the battlefield, and the constant clash between life and death had pushed her cultivation to soar at an astonishing pace. At times, she even wondered if she might now rival the strength of her teacher, the Demon King.
Yet the tremor they had just witnessed made her feel small.
It was not simply powerful—it was transcendent, as though it belonged to a realm of existence she had yet to even glimpse. The more she reflected on its implications, the heavier the burden pressing upon her shoulders became.
