The world brightened.
The eternally lingering dark Soul Mist and Soul-shaking Wind atop Soul-shaking Peak were cleaved open by a beam of light.
Words could hardly describe the swiftness of this light.
It was as if the Great Sun had fallen, as if Thunder was enraged, all the domineering Supreme Yang Power was condensed within this single light.
The sword light was terrifyingly intense!
"Rise!"
The White-Haired Youth's expression changed dramatically, but at this moment he had no time to think; he roared in fury, his face savage, his robe tearing apart to reveal strong muscles.
Upon his skin, streaks of treasure light suddenly flared, like lamps suddenly lit, soaring into the sky with dazzling brilliance. At this moment, the White-Haired Youth seemed no longer a person, but a Golden Cauldron, within which the treasure light converged, forging a frame of steel and iron.
