The third-generation disciples on the outskirts fared no better. The blast wave sent them sprawling in every direction—some hit the ground and split their heads open, while others had their arms cut by flying bits of iron. One by one, they lay facedown in the dirt, filthy and disheveled, the terror still lingering on their faces.
Only after quite a while did the deafening roar gradually fade away.
The elders struggled to their feet, their heads still ringing, and instinctively looked toward where the cylinder had originally stood.
All that remained there were twisted scraps of steel scattered across the ground. Not even a single intact core component could be found.
"It's over... It all blew up!"
An elder stared at the wreckage, his voice thick with despair as he slapped his thigh.
"Good heavens! You should've told us this thing could explode!
If we'd known it was this dangerous, we wouldn't have been in such a rush to take it apart!"
Another elder rubbed his aching waist where he had been slammed, his tone full of regret.
"Something's wrong. The power of that explosion was far too great!
Most of us are at the Golden Core realm, yet we were still blasted away. How could this thing have such tremendous force?"
One elder noticed the anomaly, his brow tightly furrowed.
"Oh no! Check on the disciples, quickly!"
Rong Jian suddenly came to his senses and hurried toward where the disciples had gathered.
When the explosion happened, they elders with the highest cultivation had been at the front, blocking most of the impact. The disciples should not have been seriously injured.
Sure enough, after taking stock, most of the disciples had suffered only superficial wounds. A few had been knocked unconscious by the blast wave, but would wake after having