The next moment.
The anomaly in the painting suddenly withdrew.
Light and shadow shifted.
The vast battlefield illusion in the sky, colored like a fiery sunset, and the pervasive taste of blood and fire in the air, the surging will and emotions, all suddenly vanished.
In an invisible breeze, it was drawn back into the painting of unknown material on the desk, yet it still appeared as vivid as ever, almost transformed after Lin Guang's final stroke.
An unfathomable voice said:
"Do you have any other purpose for this painting?"
In the always flat and arrogant tone of the other party, there was surprisingly a trace of emotion.
It seemed like...
A desire to collect, a sense of enthusiasm.
The somewhat fatigued Lin Guang paused slightly, then immediately sensed something in this emotion, and couldn't help but smile: "As you wish."
Without a doubt.
For him, the fact that his strict teacher could react this way to his painting was already a substantial acknowledgment.
