The collision shook the surrounding mountain ranges for fifty miles in every direction.
A blinding shockwave of black-red corpse flame tore outward from the apex of the golden dome. The concussion snapped ancient boulders along the outer ridges into powder, sending a deafening avalanche of shale tumbling into the distant ravines.
High in the swirling storm, Ancestor Kunlun-Zi and Ancestor Blood-Sea threw back their heads, preparing to savor the screams of dying mortals.
In their three centuries of slaughter, no city barrier had ever survived a direct strike from the Ten-Thousand Corpse Blood-Claw. They expected the shiny golden bubble to shatter like an eggshell, allowing their necrotic flames to drown the valley in blood and bone.
Yet, as the crimson smoke cleared, the demonic laughter died in their throats.
The golden dome did not shatter.
It did not crack.
It did not even ripple.
