The heavy iron burial chamber reeked of scorched meat and boiling blood. The massive thermal explosion from City Lord Hai Kuo's talisman had reduced the outer barricades into a glowing, viscous slag of molten metal. Puddles of liquid iron dripped from the ceiling, hissing loudly as they struck the uneven floorboards. The absolute destructive heat had failed to penetrate the core of the room, leaving the massive, heavy stone pedestal in the center entirely untouched.
Wang Jian stood amidst the devastation. He kept his posture perfectly straight, his breathing entirely steady. He looked down at the crushed, ruined vessel that had previously housed the ancient spirit. The physical body of Xue Ren lay broken on the iron floor, the limbs bent at horrific angles, the skull caved inward from the heavy physical impact of Wang Jian's strike.
