The thick, white-gold solar mist slowly began to thin out, dissipating into the high celestial atmosphere of the Seventh Heaven.
The grand Celestial Hall was left in a state of utter, devastated ruin. The white marble floors surrounding Tony Clark's station were now nothing more than a hardened, dark glass crater, scorched by the absolute heat of his sun-like furnace.
The thousands of spectators, rogue cultivators, and elder-rank masters in the high galleries remained frozen. Their eyes were wide, their breath completely stolen by the terrifying reality of what they had just witnessed.
Tony casually walked out of the smoking testing hall, his hands tucked loosely into the pockets of his dark hunting cloak. His standard lazy posture was perfectly restored.
