In a trance, Chen Yu's springy consciousness felt as if it had been pulled into an ancient, fragmented memory.
He saw a colossal, pitch-black dragon, its body so vast it could blot out the sky, wailing in sorrow as it plummeted from a sacred, brilliant, and unknown kingdom.
Its body tore through the roiling black clouds, scales peeling away and scattering a rain of shadow-blood like ink. Finally, with endless resentment and fury, it crashed thunderously into a pitch-black mountain range.
The dragon's carcass rapidly decayed and disintegrated, merging with the mountain range until it finally transformed into a pool of constantly churning, viscous shadow liquid.
In the long ages that followed, this pool seemed to become the source and breeding ground for Shadow Creatures, giving birth to countless bizarre and grotesque shadow lifeforms of all shapes and sizes.
And the heroic shadow spirit he had devoured had emerged from this very pool of shadow.
