Boom!
At the heart of the thunderstorm, nine enormous lightning serpents roared and crashed down. The entire world was left with nothing but blinding lightning.
The lightning serpents were like dragons, as though an entire world of thunder and lightning had fallen, intent on destroying everything below.
Even from thousands of miles away, their aura still made one's hairs stand on end.
The lightning became the absolute star of the battlefield.
Every bolt of heavenly lightning that fell drew enormous cries of alarm.
Even separated by countless mountains and rivers, they could feel the roar descending from the heavens.
Every strike of the lightning tribulation was exceptionally prolonged. Even though the cloud formation stretched across ten thousand miles, it still needed sufficient time to gather its power.
One bolt.
Two bolts.
Three bolts.
Eight bolts.
Nine bolts.
Nine was the limit in the numbers of the Great Dao; going beyond it was as bad as falling short.
Nine nines returned to one.
Yet, to everyone's astonishment, this lightning tribulation exceeded the number "nine."
It struck twelve times in succession before it finally exhausted itself and, still not quite satisfied, dispersed the cloud formation.
Between heaven and earth lay silence and chaos.
At the very core of the battlefield, nothing remained. There was only scorched earth—scorched earth so fine it resembled flour ground beneath a stone mill.
The air was filled with it, drifting down from the heavens like black snowflakes.
Little by little, it added thickness to the land beneath their feet, seeming... endless.
No one knew how much earth this great battle and lightning tribulation had swept into the sky.
They only knew that three days later, the Floating Mausoleum Mountain region was still gray and murky, with daylight barely visible.
Many people rushed into Floating Mausoleum Mountain,