*CRACKLE* The first streak of golden lightning tore through the sky, descending like a divine spear aiming to obliterate Zhao Tian.
It was a bolt of pure destruction, aimed directly at Zhao Tian, who stood in the center of the shattered arena.
He made no move to dodge. No defensive formation, no barrier of astral energy, no talismanic shield—just his body, standing against the heavens
BOOM!
*CRACK* The arena shook violently, cracks forming across its surface as the energy surged outward.
Dust and debris filled the air, obscuring Zhao Tian's figure.
Yao Jing stood at the edge of the arena, her fists clenched tightly as her heart pounded in her chest.
Her instincts screamed for her to intervene, but she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, forcing herself to stay put.
When the dust finally settled, Zhao Tian's figure emerged and his robes were scorched, his hair slightly disheveled, but no visible injuries on his body.