At the heart of the storm, demonic shadows flickered.
Wang Xian's figure appeared and disappeared amid the raging streams of energy, as though the crisscrossing Sword Qi had just torn him to shreds.
Yet the heart-stopping pressure had not faded. Like a noose tightening by the moment, it constricted the hearts of every powerhouse present.
This was only the beginning.
Bai Zhentian's hair and beard stood on end, lightning flashing in his eyes. Gone was the dignified air he usually carried as a sect elder; all that remained was the madness of a man prepared to stake everything.
He knew that if they failed to bury the Devil King here today, the world would never know peace again.
The sect he had spent his whole life protecting would soon be reduced to ashes.
"For the Heavenly Saint Sect!"
With his resolve set, he pressed his fingers together like a sword and summoned the divine thunder of the ninth heaven!
A golden bolt of lightning blazed with such brilliance it seemed capable of splitting chaos itself. Like a punitive sword brought down by the Thunder God of the Nine Heavens, it tore through the sky.
It streaked toward the tallest snowy peak a hundred yards away... where the Devil King stood!
Space warped in the wake of the lightning.
A searing wave of heat instantly vaporized the snow mist overhead, revealing Donghuang Yufeng standing proudly above the clouds.
Each beat of the spiritual wings behind him sent countless feathers of light, etched with ancient runes, fluttering down. Under his supreme pressure, the snowy mountain beneath him trembled.
Looking down at the figure in the storm, his eyes held no hatred, only an absolute detachment stripped of all emotion, as though he were examining an obstacle that had to be erased.
"Those