When Yi Chen rose from his state of absolute reverence, he felt neither any gaze upon him nor any pressure from above.
Only a dense death aura lingered within this temple.
Suddenly, Yi Chen realized something, and he immediately turned around, mustering all his power, and pushed the slightly ajar door shut to prevent the essence of death from escaping.
Precisely.
There was nothing in the inner hall, no living, no dead, not even concepts.
The death essence remaining in the inner chamber was quite limited; once it flowed away, it would never return. Yi Chen wished he could turn back time to recover the essence lost earlier.
After closing the door, he once again looked around the grand hall.
It resembled a desolate royal hall; many tattered long cloths still hung on the decaying walls, where the national seal should have been printed but had been torn away.
