When the light screen shifted again, the color of the sky changed.
[In the direction of the East Sea, ten points of light were rising.
At first, they were only somewhat brighter than ordinary suns. Soon, their radiance swelled into blinding gold and crimson. The air warped, and the outlines of distant mountains trembled in the heatwave.
It turned out that the Ten Golden Crows had slipped out of Tanggu Valley and were chasing one another playfully across the skies of the Prehistoric World.
Solar True Fire poured down without restraint. Rivers ran dry, rocks melted, and vegetation turned to ash.
The First Prince spread his wings. "They are nothing but ants. If they die, they die. It is their fortune."
The youngest Golden Crow lagged behind. "Brothers, wait for me!"
They flapped their wings and flew farther away, leaving behind a long scorched trail—the traces of countless lives that had once existed.]
Taiyi watched the ten points of light on the screen.
"Ten Suns in the Sky... so that was the incident."
He said no more, but everyone present understood what he meant.
This had been the final fuse of the Witch-Demon War, as well as the first thunderclap that opened the curtain on the Witch-Demon Calamity.
Many of the older Jie Sect disciples, those of more ordinary backgrounds, grew solemn.
That catastrophe had taken far too many lives, especially among the Human Race and ordinary living beings—those with average cultivation and no exceptional gifts.
On the day the ten suns appeared, just one day had turned thousands of miles of the Prehistoric World into scorched earth and left tens of thousands of miles devoid of life. How many entire tribes had vanished in the heatwave, their bones reduced to ash?
Among the Jie Sect disciples,
Bi Xiao sent