Dark clouds blanketed the sky, blotting out the sun.
A raging storm swept across the land, its sharp howls like a banshee's wails. The houses creaked loudly, and the unending gale made it impossible to keep one's eyes open. Bats streaked across the sky, shrieking.
The continuous flashes of lightning could not even be said to be falling. Instead, they repeatedly swept across the ground—the bolts of light looked less like lightning strikes and more like tornadoes piercing heaven and earth, plowing furrows straight into the ground. The buildings were all struck by lightning and burst into flames... Yet even so, not a single villager fled their home in panic.
If not for the lights shining inside the rooms and the distinct scent of humans, it would have thought these people had already evacuated.
But... what was going on?
Would they really rather burn to death in their rooms than come outside?
Even so, why was Iver so calm as well? He had dragged this ordinary village into trouble because of his own actions, yet did he feel not the slightest shame or remorse?
Punishment Demon had not told him much about this village before, and Wolfram had had no interest in asking about such irrelevant details.
But now, Wolfram's brows were tightly furrowed.
As he watched Punishment Demon continuously guide the lightning, a subtle, ominous feeling suddenly arose in the Giant Prince's heart—the feeling that things were gradually slipping beyond his control.
At that moment, Ye Zhi, who had originally been fishing beside Sapphire Lake, suddenly frowned.
A bolt of lightning fell beside him, directly overturning the bucket filled with plump salmon and trout. The iron bucket exploded, and Ye Zhi casually slapped the fragments aside.
He raised his head and looked toward the dark clouds in the sky,