It was a radiant and scorching brilliance, seemingly the dwelling place of gods, or an independent world. But in reality, it was just the palm of Gu Zhan's hand, descending with a speed that appeared slow but was astonishingly swift.
Five fingers descended like five heavenly pillars holding up the sky, the fingers so immense and boundless that they couldn't be perceived as fingers, enveloped in dazzling brilliance, giving an impression of being insurmountable, covering everything below.
At this time,
the three strongest cultivators of the present age, Yan Qingshan, Ming Zhishou, and Zhang Wentian, were as insignificant as dust, fleeing within that palm.
The large hand reached out, spreading forward, shading the endless darkness below, appearing immensely vast.
