Ye Fan spoke with regality, his sonorous voice garnering reverence of all who heard.
It was as if he were a monarch returning to take control of his country.
He stomped on the ground forcefully.
With a loud rumble, the earth quaked. A rune appeared beneath the feet of the four greatest Dragon Slayers.
A beam of light shot toward the sky, engulfing the four men.
Soon after, Ye Fan's imposing voice reverberated through the area, “Heed my command, Dragon Slayers. Release your Qi and assemble!”
The moment the order left Ye Fan's lips, Gaius and the rest of his troop hollered and unleashed a blast of energy.
At the same time, the four men extended their arms and touched their palms to the person beside them.
In a split second, their breaths synchronized as they seemed to merge into one.
Just then, Ye Fan surveyed his surroundings and summoned, “Thunder!”
A resounding boom shook the earth.
Strong gusts of wind swept the clouds across the sky and churned the seas.
A thundercloud drew near from the distance as if someone had lassoed it in. It was the epitome of impending doom.
Lightning struck downward.
Like a silvery dragon soaring through the clouds, the flash of light shot through the sky.
The four men were instantly enveloped in blinding white light.
Gaius and his men never imagined that when Ye Fan said he would call upon the heavens and the earth, he meant that he would strike them with lightning.
They were on the brink of despair.
Thunder and lightning ruled the skies. How are we
going to survive a lightning bolt?
Unfortunately, by the time they grasped Ye Fan's true intentions, it was too late for them.
The thick, heavy thundercloud descended upon them, taking them into the belly of the beast with its imaginary maw.
Excruciating pain coursed through their bodies.
Despite being Supreme martial artists, the torture was too much for them to bear as they went berserk.
“Argh!”
Their agonized howls pierced the still air of the valley.
It felt like they were trudging through hellfire; the burning sensation that overtook them drove them insane.
Multiple times, they felt like they had been pulverized by the thunderclap.
They were already on the verge of breaking down—a volt higher and they would have passed out immediately.
However, whenever they got to the edge of that cliff, ready to plummet to their death, the lightning would weaken just enough for them to catch a few breaths before it reverted to its original intensity.
It was as if someone was manipulatingthe thunderclap, forcing Gaius and his men to dance perilously between life and death, oblivion and alertness.
Time ticked by slowly.
The torment continued for the four men, unrelenting and unremitting.
Their blood-curdling screams echoed throughout the mountains.
They could almost distinguish the sounds of their bones cracking under the deafening boom of thunder.
Ye Fan stood a short distance away, his expression stoic as he watched his subordinates writhe in pain.
It was as if their anguish did not faze him.
He calmly watched them pace before the doors of death.
However, his serenity originated not from a place of cruelty but rather from the knowledge that growth came with a hefty price—just like a piece of crude metal would have to be subjected to raging fire to be cast into a fine sword.
Pain was inevitable, but what did not kill them would make them stronger.
To Ye Fan, the four Dragon Slayers was that piece of crude metal, the thunderclap was the fire, and Ye Fan, the bladesmith.
With the Dragon Slayers as metal, the earth as the furnace, and the thunder as fire, Ye Fan would forge a sword that could conquer the world.
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