When the sky cleared again, Blackwood Cliff had been completely erased from the face of the land.
In its place lay an unimaginably vast, bottomless crater shaped like a fist imprint.
The earth and rocks around the crater's edge had taken on a strange glassy sheen, clearly formed in an instant under unimaginable heat and pressure.
Zhao Wuji stood at the crater's edge, his body trembling without pause.
Everything before his eyes had utterly overturned his understanding of cultivation.
This was simply not something human strength could achieve.
And yet it had come from nothing more than a light, casual punch from the young man beside him.
Chen Changqing withdrew his fist. Not even a speck of dust clung to its edge.
He glanced at his handiwork, his calm face utterly undisturbed, as though he had merely swatted a fly to death.
He stepped forward, his body slowly drifting down until he hovered directly above the crater.
His Spiritual Sense swept through the area once more, confirming that not a trace of life remained.
Only then did he nod in satisfaction.
"Let's go."
He spoke to Zhao Wuji, who was still lost in a daze above.
Zhao Wuji shuddered and abruptly came back to himself. Looking at the white-clad figure below, reverence was no longer enough to describe what he felt. It was the terror and worship of a mortal gazing up at a god.
He hurriedly controlled his escape light and rushed behind Chen Changqing in an almost scrambling crawl, not daring to move even half a step ahead of him.
"H-Holy Son..." Zhao Wuji's voice was terribly hoarse.
Chen Changqing ignored him and turned his gaze toward an underground space at the bottom of the crater, one that had been blasted open directly by the force of his