The sky over the Seven Treasure City had ceased to be a canopy of stars and became a canvas of blinding, incandescent white.
Dai Xuan and Buo He, two legends who had survived centuries of carnage and upheaval, stood frozen in the air, their auras flickering like guttering candles against the sheer magnitude of the "Little Boy" explosion.
They stared in absolute, paralyzing shock at that mushroom cloud—a pillar of divine fire that touched the very heavens and seemed to mock the power of any mortal cultivator.
Goodness, is this even possible!? They couldn't help but wonder, their hearts hammering against their ribs with a frantic, primitive rhythm.
The night sky had basically turned into day, a forced dawn brought about not by the rotation of the world, but by the terrifying weapon of a young girl.
Just what kind of existence could even think of creating this kind of weapon? Does that person wanted to destroy the world?!
