When time stopped, everything in the world would come to a stop.
Even the several hundred Angels on the other side of the crystal wall slowly descending down the pillar of light came to a halt.
As the light filtered through their wings, it transformed into countless thin and gorgeous threads.
Chen Changsheng could be said to be the person who had pondered death the most. Before that night in the Mausoleum of Books, he had spent every moment of his life in the shadow of death. Although he had later on gained his freedom, when it was necessary, he could quickly return to that state and easily make the necessary decision.
When the three thousand swords were flying back from the night sky and on the verge of piercing his body, he really did think he was dead.
Mentally, he was dead, but physically, he was still alive.
