The cultivators of the Heavenly Thunder Sword Sect had always been inseparable from lightning in their training. They could be said to be more familiar with the power of thunder than the vast majority of factions, and they felt the terrifying pressure before them more deeply than anyone else.
The Heavenly Thunder Sword Sect Leader's face darkened to the extreme. He had not thought much of the earlier waves of pressure originating from the Fierce Nether Lightning Stone, even believing he could shatter them with a flip of his hand. It was only because the successive waves had come down too tightly and too fiercely, leaving him no room to act, that he had been forced back—not because he truly could not withstand them.
This was also how most of the others felt. It was not that they feared such pressure, but that they lacked absolute confidence in withstanding it without suffering so much as a scratch. Thus, they chose to be blasted back with the least possible cost.
However.
When the pressure reached the eighth wave—more precisely, at the moment the seventh wave descended—the Heavenly Thunder Sword Sect Leader was the first to realize that something was wrong;
Although the aura emitted by the seventh wave still originated from the mortal Fierce Nether Lightning Stone, the might it ultimately displayed was no longer something that could be broken apart at will;
In that instant, it felt as though the seventh wave had drawn in and gathered all the preceding waves, twisting them into one at the very moment it came crashing down.
It carried the desperate intent of the array's creator exhausting every resource and making a final, life-or-death gamble;
It instinctively made him want to avoid its edge;
He even felt a faint trace of fear.
That was