That silent shockwave was the prelude to destruction.
Centered on the Dragon-Phoenix Jade Pendant, a ring of transparent ripples swept outward. Wherever it passed, all creation fell silent.
"Crack—"
The artifact embryo that had just taken shape in the hands of the nearest cultivator let out a crisp snap. Spiderweb-like cracks instantly spread across its surface, and with a bang, it exploded into dust that filled the sky.
The man himself seemed to have been struck by lightning. He spat out a mouthful of blood and was sent flying, crashing into a distant mountain wall. Whether he lived or died was unknown.
This was only the beginning.
"My furnace!"
"Pfft!"
"Not good! The spirituality in my Flying Sword is draining away!"
On the Stone Platform, screams and the sounds of artifacts shattering rose one after another.
Those artifact cauldrons that had once gleamed with treasure light now seemed to have been drained of all their essence. Their radiance dimmed, and their spirituality vanished completely.
Some of the poorer-quality ones simply collapsed into fragments beneath the impact.
The White-Clad Sword Cultivator who had forged a Low-Grade Spirit Treasure heard his longsword give a mournful cry. The blade actually snapped in half, turning into two pieces of worthless scrap metal.
His mind was implicated as well. His face turned as pale as paper, and even his Dao heart nearly collapsed.
Merely the lingering aftermath of an artifact taking form had ruined nearly half the works and cultivators present!
What kind of tyrannical power was this?!
Every survivor stared fixedly at the figure still standing at the center of the field, their faces as though they had seen a monster.
At the center of the storm, Chen Changqing's robes fluttered wildly, his hair streaming in the wind.
The Haotian Hammer in his hand