Within the formation, six silhouettes stood like zombie puppets, surrounded by black mist, their faces obscured.
At first, Linghu Jing didn't make any connections, but upon reflecting on the ancestor Golden Crow's words, she realized that the ancestor Golden Crow regarded these six as equals.
Suddenly, a terrifying thought emerged.
Could the other six also be True Gods?
"To you, it might be unbelievable, but it's indeed the truth!" The ancestor Golden Crow seemed to see through Linghu Jing's mind, and said wistfully, "They were my comrades, each once a Divine Spirit that emerged from the chaotic void, protecting the Divine Realm for countless epochs!"
"Ah... how could this happen, weren't you all Divine Spirits, why turn into puppets?" Linghu Jing couldn't comprehend.
