Outside, in the dark and cold star river depths.
The Goddess of Cold Crystal maneuvered her divine seat as she passed through a nebula, her finely arched eyebrows knitting together as she halted the flight of her vessel.
Within the nebula situated between three enormous stars, divine power surged tumultuously as a host of solemn and majestic divine figures emerged.
Divine light swirled around the gods, making their enormous bodies, as vast as divine mountain steeps, appear even more gigantic.
At this moment, over a dozen god spirits had gathered in their true forms, seemingly engaged in a grand assembly.
And she, it was clear, was no longer on the list of the invited.
He Motian, with his four heads and four arms, and possessing four faces, stood erect in the center of the nebula. The field of magic power emanating from his body, vast as millions of fathoms, was enough to crush smaller stars to dust.
