Nine... Nine-Colored Heavenly Tribulation, Strongest Strike

That scene was seared deep into the souls of everyone present.

One man, one hammer, strolling leisurely amid countless bolts of heavenly punishment.

The chaotic divine radiance filling the sky, enough to obliterate Tribulation Transcendence True Lords, seemed like the most dazzling fireworks before him. Every hammer strike burst into a spray of brilliant sparks, casting his figure in the light like a god.

The cultivators who had fled to the edge of the stone platform all stopped, staring blankly up at the sky.

The terror on their faces was gradually replaced by a fervor that bordered on pilgrimage.

"Th-this... is he even human?"

Someone spoke in a dry voice, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"I feel like all my centuries of cultivation have gone to the dogs."

A veteran True Lord who had long made his name wore a bitter expression. The Dao heart he had always been so proud of was left teetering on the brink by this sight.

Compared to the man before them, these so-called powerhouses and heavenly geniuses were no more than toddlers learning to walk.

"The seventh wave..."

On the raised platform, Patriarch Long Gan gripped the railing and muttered to himself, his voice brimming with barely suppressed excitement.

From the first beam of divine light to this current web of lightning, this was already the seventh wave of heavenly tribulation.

Each wave was stronger than the last, more terrifying than the last.

Yet that man still seemed to be handling them with effortless ease.

Was he really going to succeed?

Was he truly going to accomplish this unprecedented feat upon the Dragon Gate stone platform, before the eyes of all the world's heavenly geniuses?

Long Gan's heartbeat began to accelerate beyond his control.

He knew that today, he might be witnessing the birth of