When the sky cleared once more, Black Wood Cliff had been completely erased from the landscape.
In its place lay an enormous, bottomless crater bearing the imprint of a fist.
The earth and stone around the crater's edge had taken on a bizarre glazed appearance, clearly formed in an instant beneath unimaginable heat and pressure.
Zhao Wuji stood at the edge of the crater, his body never once ceasing to tremble.
Everything before his eyes had utterly overturned his understanding of cultivation.
This was simply not something human power could achieve.
And yet it had come from one casual punch by the young man beside him.
Chen Changqing withdrew his fist. Not even a speck of dust had touched its edge.
He glanced at his handiwork, his calm face utterly still, as though he had merely swatted a fly to death.
He stepped forward, his body slowly descending until he hovered directly above the crater.
His divine sense swept through the area again, confirming that not a trace of life remained.
Only then did he nod in satisfaction.
"Let's go."
He spoke to Zhao Wuji, who was still standing above in a daze.
Zhao Wuji jolted and abruptly came back to himself. Looking at the white-robed figure below, he found that reverence was no longer enough to describe his feelings. It was the fear and worship of a mortal gazing upon a god.
He hurriedly controlled his escape light, practically tumbling and crawling as he rushed behind Chen Changqing. He did not dare move even half a step ahead of him.
"H-Holy Son..." Zhao Wuji's voice was terribly hoarse.
Chen Changqing ignored him and instead looked toward an underground space at the bottom of the crater, one that had been blasted open by the force of his punch.
There, treasures