The sky grew ever darker, an indistinguishable blend of night and day.
"It's coming!"
Yang Zhenshan raised his eyebrows and spoke.
In the next moment, the pitch-black sky first split open with a pale purple and white arc of light, with five kinds of halos spreading like ink stains upon it, like a piece of crumpled colorful satin descending from the Void. As the arc descended closer to the ground, the outlines of layered mountains emerged from the clouds, and glowing bands flickered between peaks and valleys, as if the Giant Spirit God were sketching a map with stars.
Earth, water, wind, and fire rotated within the rift; countless streams of light burst forth like arrows leaving the strings, shooting in all directions, distorting heaven and earth. Bands of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet danced everywhere, as though the world was once again mixing elemental paints.
