Reincarnation of the Strongest Sword God - Side Stories
Chaotic Sword God
Apocalypse Gacha
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Martial Cultivator
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Nightmare Assault
Loser System and Berserker Me
I, The Dragon Overlord
Horror Game Designer
There's Absolutely No Problem With The Magic Cards I Made!
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 316: Ghost Face
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 238: Beep
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1158- Jumping into the river
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 937: The Eight Gates Banners
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1157- End of the street
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Chapter 10.1
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 612: Allowing It Once or Twice
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 315: Will
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 237: Good Things
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1156- Competition Speed
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 936: A Struggle of Dao Orthodoxies
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1155- Splitting unhappily
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Chapter 9
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 611: Old Friends Don't Meet Often
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 236: Infiltration
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 314: What Kind of Kids Do You Teach?
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1154- Not willing to accept being managed
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 935: Release
The Formless realm was an empty world without colour, substance, or existence.
Yet there would also be an instant where he felt himself swell, expanding endlessly, not by thousands or tens of thousands of metres, but by thousands and tens of thousands of kilometres until he filled the entire world.
If that really was just an instant.
There would also be an instant where he felt himself turn white—white skin, white blood, white eyes—except he was unable to sense his own existence.
If that really was an instant!
Afterwards, everything would turn back to normal, in an endless cycle, through constant resets.
Was it an illusion? Perhaps not. Perhaps he really did become that large and that white, breaking through some sort of boundary before returning back to where he was.
This sensation could not be described with words. It was even emptier than emptiness, even more despairing than despair, even more maddening than madness.
He had already gone insane countless times, running and screaming madly through the white world, but none of that mattered. Everything returned to how it was.
This form of eternal life was even more terrifying than death.
It became more and more difficult for him to gather his thoughts. Countless thoughts entangled together as a mess before gradually dissipating.
It was said that once a person spent far too much time in a snowy landscape, they would go blind if their eyes struggled to find a focal point for long periods of time. This condition was known as snow blindness.
The situation he was in was far worse than that. Perhaps it could be called heart blindness.
If he could not die, then there was no need to strive for survival. If there were no enemies, then why struggle and fight on at all?
Because certain things in daily life were far too natural, people would end up neglecting their value, just like air.
When time and space, the two basic concepts to existence, had been suddenly removed, everything that depended on them would gradually collapse, and there would never be an end to
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