Within the dim void, dense fog swirled, with nebulae faintly visible here and there; within the source of the light hung a grand hall, with nine suns suspended above it, arrayed in a fan shape.
Beneath the nine suns, a black throne stood upon a high platform, upon which an imposing figure sat.
He was clad in armor, with a broad physique, wearing a divine crown reminiscent of a Qilin's head, from which emerged his cold and authoritative countenance.
White hair fluttered at the sides of his face, as he supported his head with one hand in a languid pose, continually exhaling turbid breath like a true dragon taking a brief rest.
A bolt of lightning struck from the depths of darkness, hitting the grand hall and transforming into a winged man; he was dressed in dark cyan Daoist robes, with a grim expression and long hair cascading freely, resembling a fierce ghost.
In front of the seated figure, the winged man seemed so diminutive, like facing a towering mountain.