The Ancient Fall of Ten Thousand Worlds

"Hey! There’s a straggler over here! And a pretty little thing with such delicate skin!" Several streaks of light descended from the sky. They were disciples of the Yin Moon Sect, Black Fiend Valley, and Seven Absolutes Sect.

"You... all deserve to die."

A thousand-zhang tower of white bones stood amid the ruins and blood, grim and murderous, silently bearing witness to the one-sided slaughter that had just ended. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the bone tower, casting mottled patches of light, but brought not the slightest warmth, only a chill that made the soul tremble.

Xuan Yuan stood still before the tower, his black robes immaculate, as if the slaughter that had swept across the area had nothing to do with him. Yet the terrifying aura still lingering around him, like that of a primordial beast, kept every surviving member of the Xuanyuan Clan from approaching. They could only prostrate themselves at a distance, overwhelmed by awe and fear.