I hadn't expected the internal space of this magical treasure to be so vast—it didn't seem to be of mortal grade.
As I pondered how to escape, the mere stirring of a thought caused my head to feel as if it were about to explode.
Thought after thought, memory after memory flooded my brain all at once, leaving Nezha utterly incapable of calming down.
The flame atop the central wick surged like a dragon emerging from its cave, violently rushing towards Nezha.
In a daze, Nezha caught sight of the oncoming flames, his hairs standing on end, and in an instant, his mind and spirit snapped back to attention.
With a roll to evade, he felt the heaviness of his divine soul and sunk slightly in his heart—this magical treasure was far too eerie.
"Change outfit!" Nezha urgently commanded in a low voice.
A flash of white light, and Nezha found himself in a long white dress.
"Green Wide-sleeved Skirt."
"Grade: Intermediate Low-Grade."