BOOOOOM!
The hundredth bolt fell like divine punishment, ripping apart the sky, blotting out the sun, and reducing the land beneath to a sea of white.
The light was blinding.
The sound was deafening.
Even cultivators at the peak of the Void Tribulation Realm—powerhouses who had lived for thousands of years—shielded their eyes and dropped to their knees from sheer pressure.
Their spiritual senses were overwhelmed. Their souls trembled.
The world was silenced.
No bird chirped. No wind blew. Even the flowing rivers halted for a breath in time.
For several long, excruciating moments, there was nothing—no sound, no sight, no certainty.
Just the endless, blinding white.
It felt like the world had stopped turning.
Even those watching from the safety of Riley's divine realm—his followers, his wives, the millions he had transported—all held their breath.
They stared at the sky with wide eyes and frozen hearts.
"Did he… survive that?"
