As Wang Ping subconsciously wondered who it was, he felt a scorching heat wash over him.
The sky to the north was dyed fiery red. That blinding, crimson light suddenly converged into a single point, a point like a newborn sun descending upon the earth from the Cosmos.
The moment this "sun" appeared, Wang Ping saw the vast northern lands crystallizing at a visible rate. A layer of raging fire clung to the world.
"You bastard, you've thrown the world into such chaos!"
The voice came again, filled mostly with fury and a hint of disappointment. His voice was direct—one might call it forthright—but for a Fourth Realm Cultivator, "forthright" was not quite the right word.
As the furious voice drew closer, so did the flames burning across the world. From Wang Ping's perspective, it was as if the world was already ending, the great fire devouring every material thing in his sight.
