"Huff!"
Within the abandoned factory, smoke and dust rise at this moment, a burnt smell permeates everywhere.
A gale sweeps through, dispersing the dust and smoke, as Ye Qingfeng stands in the void, with traces of thunder entwining him, resembling the Thunder God of the present age.
Wan Moting had just been disturbed by the dazzling thunder light, unable to see, and now finally has the chance to open his eyes.
He finds it unbelievable that he is still alive after such a violent and destructive blow?
The barely breathing Wan Molai and Blood Slaughter are equally stunned, yet unscathed as well.
As they look around, their hearts surge with terror, indescribable with mere words.
There was originally an abandoned factory here, covering at least several hundred acres, but now, all of them stand in a vast open space, charred all around, with countless ravines criss-crossing.
