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... clined on a jagged boulder, his mind still swirling from the rush of integrating his newly replicated talent. The isolated canyon he warped to was a barren wasteland, veiled in shadows and distant roars of unknown beasts. His breath steamed in the chill air, but he relished the harshness. It grounded him. Reminded him he was alive and still growing.

"Now that's what I call progress," Azvoid smirked, his gaze flickering with excitement. The talent he replicated was already being tempered ...

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The longer Ye Yang lived in degradation, the more he felt that the dog emperor was different from what he initially thought.

At his feet the ground was covered in blood and bones, but behind him was the delightful scenery of the prosperous world, and the coming of all nations.

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And Feng Luan whispered in his ear.

“My dear Imperial Concubine, look.”

“This is our country.”

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