Mo Fei could vaguely make out the shadow of Deathwing in that towering figure.
"I choose—to join the Pantheon."
"Nesario, how dare you—previously, you agreed we would welcome back the Dragon God together."
"Damn it, this isn't fair."
"Enough! The council has made its decision, five to four, accept the fate bestowed upon you, brothers."
The scene shifted abruptly.
It was still the same mountain peak, the same platform, only it had turned from day to night. A group of dragons gathered around the platform, seemingly waiting for something.
A glorious pillar of light descended from the skies, the clouds above shimmering with golden radiance. The Primordial Dragons roared, eyeing the phenomenon before them with wariness.
Finally, a figure slowly emerged from the column of light.
He wore a magnificent robe, with a hood that concealed his face, exuding a golden holy aura and an aura of majesty.