"Who killed my son, Dream?" Porter Burch's voice was like a nightmare, sending chills down the spine despite no actual cold.
No one answered him, because they simply didn't know that Dream had died, and besides, Dream was Porter Burch's son—who would dare to kill him?
"Does no one know? Does no one know?" Outside the palace, there were at least a thousand people kneeling, even including six or seven of Nether Emperor level, and even the ordinary servants were Nether Immortals.
He was a supreme Daojin, naturally having countless people loyal to him.
Still, there was no sound from outside because they didn't know, so they couldn't answer.
"Dream is dead, so why are you still alive? Huh?" Suddenly, the nine dark energies around Porter Burch transformed into nine Black Dragons, and as those dragons circled each other in the void, a pitch-black black hole was formed, emitting endless mournful and excruciating screams.