The sky blazed incandescent, every inch of space crackling with electric light. The land was scorched black, and an endless purple glow converged into a Thunder Sea!
The Heavenly Tribulation was not over yet; instead, it was becoming increasingly intense, more terrifying, boundless, with no end in sight.
The ground was littered with corpses—or more accurately, humanoid scorch marks. It was unclear how many had perished here, and Ye Fan did not bother to count.
"Ah!," a harrowing scream echoed, akin to an apocalyptic scene. A half-step sovereign let out a roar but was powerless to change anything. His spiritual treasure shattered, and he fell straight down.
Soon, he turned into ashes in the electric light. Not even bones remained, and all his precious treasures were ground to dust, leaving nothing behind.
Ye Fan, like a grim reaper with the Origin Qi Cauldron above his head and divine radiance bursting from his eyes, walked step by step, mercilessly slaughtering the survivors.
