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Lightning writhed like serpentine dragons, their thunderclaps shaking the starry region. The Divine Court of Thunder, entangled in the World Tree's sprawling branches, drifted through the bizarre mist, unleashing searing radiance against the gloomy gray.
The Duke of Thunder had been freed from the corruption of the will of the starry skies after his cultivation realm plummeted, resulting in him regaining his clarity. Reshaping his stance, he assumed his role as the soul of the Divine Court of Thunder and fused with its foundation.
Under Pang Ling's guidance, the World Tree's colossal branches speared toward Bai Zi. An onslaught of divine power battered Bai Zi like a storm. Pang Lin, perched on the shoulder of Pang Jian's Immortal Divine Soul, wore a bright smile, delight shimmering in her eyes.
"You think I can't force you out?" Pang Lin laughed mockingly, casting a sidelong glance at the four Fey Gods she had given rise to.
They held fast under Pang Jian's aid, their spirits unbroken...
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