In front of the entire Dragon Race Ancestral Temple.
It was as if a massive black shadow had fallen, with countless black lights dyeing the splendid Dragon Palace Ancestral Temple a shade of gray.
Ning Zheng stood at the doorway, seemingly bringing darkness to the world, his figure akin to a shadowy Death God, surrounded by soul bubbles, each containing silhouettes of the Dragon Race, enveloped by their aura.
It seemed that each bubble around him was a transparent prison, confining one mighty giant dragon after another.
At this moment, Ning Zheng's soul body was merely 4% of his own. The remaining 96% consisted of soul bubbles from the Dragon Race.
He radiated vast and ancient dragon aura, reminiscent more of a fusion... a Super Ancestral Dragon.
"What are you?"
"Why do you have such a familiar aura on you?"
"It resembles the Ancestral Dragon!"
"It's because of the Ghost King, the aura of the Ghost King!"
...
Hundreds of Dharma Aspect giant dragons raised their heads.
