Huang Yun stood at the entrance to the Circular Hall and looked up at the golden sphere of light suspended in its center.
More than thirty feet across, the sphere rotated slowly. Countless arcs of electricity raced over its surface, each one brimming with Thunder Power.
The power was not wild. It had an orderly rhythm, as though some will had arranged it with care.
Light from the sphere filled the hall, illuminating the dense Runes across the vaulted ceiling until they resembled stars.
Qian Renxue stood a few steps behind him, her expression strained.
Her Angel Martial Soul felt a pressure unlike anything it had ever faced.
It was suppression at the level of the Martial Soul Origin—pure and ancient, closer to the source of thunder than her Six-Winged Angel.
She could feel her Soul Power draining faster. The Light Power around her was constantly repelled and compressed, as though an invisible wall were pushing her away.
"This thing..."
Her voice sounded dry. "What is it?"
Huang Yun did not answer at once.
His Thunder Kunpeng Martial Soul trembled violently within him. His Soul Power surged toward the golden sphere beyond his control, drawn by some unseen force.
He could feel the sphere calling to him. The call came from deep in his blood, stronger than any response he had ever felt from a Soul Skill or Spirit Bone.
He took a step forward.
Qian Renxue instinctively reached out to stop him, but her hand halted halfway.
She watched Huang Yun's back and the shadow his Gray Cloth Robe cast in the golden light. Her doubts only deepened.
There was a connection between this man and the ruins—one she knew nothing about.
Huang Yun walked up to the sphere and raised his right hand.
The instant his palm touched