Long Ziyue

That soundless shockwave was the prelude to destruction.

Centered on the Dragon-Phoenix Jade Pendant, a transparent ripple swept outward. Wherever it passed, all sound fell silent.

"Crack—"

The Magical Artifact embryo that had just taken shape in the hands of the nearest cultivator let out a sharp crack. Spiderweb-like fractures instantly spread across its surface, before it exploded with a bang, scattering into dust that filled the sky.

The man himself was struck as though by lightning. He spat out a mouthful of blood and flew backward, slamming into a distant mountain wall. Whether he lived or died was unknown.

This was merely the beginning.

"My furnace!"

"Pfft!"

"No! The spirituality of my flying sword is fading!"

Screams and the sounds of Magical Artifacts shattering rose and fell across the stone platform.

Those artifact cauldrons that had once glimmered with treasure light now seemed to have had every last drop of essence drained from them. Their light dimmed, and all spirituality vanished.

Some of poorer quality simply collapsed into fragments beneath the shockwave.

The white-robed sword cultivator who had forged a Low-grade Spirit Treasure heard his longsword give a mournful cry. The blade snapped cleanly in two, becoming nothing more than two pieces of scrap iron.

His mind was implicated as well. His face turned paper-white, and even his Dao heart nearly collapsed.

A mere aftershock from the artifact's formation had ruined nearly half the works and cultivators present!

What tyrannical power was this?!

Every survivor stared fixedly at the figure still standing in the center, looking at him as though he were a monster.

At the heart of the storm, Chen Changqing's robes fluttered wildly and his hair streamed in the wind.

The Haotian Hammer in his hand had already been lowered. The Dragon-Phoenix Jade Pendant floated quietly before