Pooped His Pants?

Before the words had even faded, a bloody gale suddenly rose in the hall, instantly shredding the general into a mist of blood, leaving neither corpse nor bones behind.

Brushed by that bloody gale, the infant in swaddling clothes not only failed to cry, but instead waved his little hands and began to giggle and babble.

Old Daoist Mo Yunsong stepped forward in two or three strides, bent down to pick up the swaddled infant, and carefully wiped the flecks of blood from the baby's face with his sleeve.

The infant grabbed his finger and laughed merrily. Squirming in the old daoist's arms, he reached out again to tug at his beard.

The blood mist lingered without dispersing. Swept up by the wind, it rose from the hall like a great crimson flower, rolled over the eaves, and scattered into the low-hanging gray clouds overhead.

The clouds had been heavy as lead, but steeped in that bloody aura, they faintly took on a dark purplish-red hue, as though Heaven itself had taken a blade.

Shen Hui retrieved Red Calamity and raised his head to look at the sky.

The dark clouds pressed lower and lower, nearly bearing down upon the crenellations of the city walls.

All of a sudden, a streak of lightning like a white snake shot from a gap in the clouds and vanished in a flash.

Then came a thunderous boom that made everyone's hearts tremble.

Rain began to pour down in an instant, fast and dense, striking the bluestone paving and splashing up a hazy white mist.

Most strangely, after the raindrops struck the ground, they even burst into tiny sparks, flickering like fireflies falling to earth.

When those sparks touched the corpses sprawled across the rear of the courtyard, no flames rose. Yet at a