The white-gold solar fire reflecting off the liquid lava trench slowly began to dim, leaving the deep corridor of the inner palace enveloped in a heavy, smoke-choked twilight. Tony Clark didn't waste a single fraction of his breath celebrating the absolute vaporization of the three hundred imperial executioners.
Moving with a sudden, fluid shift in his strategic parameters, he turned his back on the smoking ruins, grabbed the completely stunned, fanatically devoted Princess Selene Tian by her wrist, and vanished from the corridor in a single, undetected flash of spatial void particles.
Instead of plunging immediately into the deep cellar of the Abyssal Sun Soul Prison, Tony smoothly mapped his route straight back to the absolute isolation of the Cloud-Mist Pavilion. The heavy iron-reinforced doors of his meditation chamber slammed shut with a dull, echoing thud, sealing them inside a quiet world of dense primordial mist.
