A silver-haired figure stood tall at the peak of Wutu Divine Mountain. Thunderclouds roared above his head, and lightning bolts kept coming down at him, bombarding his body.
The scene, when viewed from the bottom of the mountain, was like someone braving the ordeals of the Heavenly Path.
That silver-haired man remained unflinching as he withstood one attack after another.
That was not all; no one at Wutu Divine Mountain moved at that moment. All who remained behind at the Divine Mountain took their corners and took the brunt of the lightning attacks in silence.
Divine lightning bolts rained down from above in the Divine Mountain.
That scene looked like a miracle from the heavens, stunning the hearts of those seeing it.
"How many strikes has it been now?" someone at the bottom asked.
