The grand, white-stone doors of the Celestial Hall groaned as they swung open. Tony Clark strode through the absolute center of the threshold, his hands casually tucked into the deep pockets of his dark hunting cloak. His standard lazy posture was fully restored, completely unbothered by the heavy, suffocating pressure of the Seventh Heaven's cosmic atmosphere.
Right behind his left flank, Lady Lyra walked with smooth, graceful steps. Her violet eyes were calm, but her small hands clutched the spatial containers of plundered Faith Family materials with an absolute, brainwashed devotion.
The moment Tony's boots clicked against the polished white jade floor of the testing hall, a sharp wave of toxic whispers and malicious laughter violently erupted from the central row of platforms. Standing proudly behind a magnificent, silver-enchanted cauldron that radiated a heavy lightning aura was Gerald Vance, the arrogant young master of the weapon-forge clan.
