Shen Nianzu gasped, the clarity in his purple eyes returning bit by bit. The hand gripping the sword trembled as cold sweat rolled down his back.
So that was the Nightmare's past…?
How terrifying. If Shen Nianzu's mental fortitude hadn't been strong and firm enough, he would have been swept into the torrent of memories and lost his mind. The emotions entwined with each scene was so intense, carrying a blend of twisted love, hatred and malice so overpowering Shen Nianzu could almost taste it in his pores.
He cast a glance at Jin Jiuchi and, confirming that the man was alright, shifted his gaze back to the stretch of darkness before him.
"What's the use of showing us this?" Shen Nianzu sneered. "Do you think we are going to sympathize with you? After everything you have put us through and the lives you have reaped just for your own selfishness?"
