Chương 845: The Eighth Research Institution of the Congress of Magic

The dark mist spread out so densely that one could not see his own fingers or hear his own voice. They felt that they were caught in the purest and quietest death. Even their soul was befuddled, without the slightest idea occurring to them.

Suddenly, something gray penetrated through the intense black mist. Donnie shivered and got away from the mind frigidity. He found himself standing in the middle of a desert that was full of black sand. The sky was pale and gray, the same as any part of the World of Souls. Not far away up ahead, a black, ragged palace was standing. It was ancient and splendid, releasing the infinite air of death.

Dum, dum, dum.

Donnie's heart was beating fast again, as if something was summoning him inside that dilapidated palace. The call was so strong, so clear, and so irresistible.

"Is there something summoning me in the palace?" somebody asked, and the voice appeared in Donnie's mind.