Jiang Ding sank into a bout of reminiscence.
Primary school, middle school, high school—everything from his hometown, Rongcheng City, had already grown somewhat indistinct. If he did not deliberately call up the memories hidden in the deepest corners of his Immortal Soul, he could hardly recall them anymore.
All kinds of weak emotions rose up, then gradually sank back down.
In their stead,
a sheet of ice‑coldness.
"In the Endless Starry Sky, aside from the Immortal, there is nothing that can be eternal!"
"This era should be precisely the era that I, this Lord, require."
Jiang Ding looked somewhat coolly toward the myriad things within the Endless Starry Sky: "I, this Lord, am but a mortal of the Human World, not transcendent. I equally must struggle and slaughter within the Human World for the things I desire. Compared to any mortal or any common beast, I am not particularly noble or aloof. I am not a god—I am human."
