Xu Wendong's shout was like the creation sound at the dawn of the universe, or the earth-shattering boom of a chaotic cauldron bursting.
The voice spread outwards with the momentum of toppling mountains and overturning seas, each syllable like an imposing mountain, fiercely crashing against Yue Qingchen's eardrums.
The sound waves didn't just assault her hearing but also surged like roaring spiritual power tides, wave after wave sweeping into the depths of her soul.
Yue Qingchen felt as if struck by lightning, her delicate body trembled violently, and her facial expression froze instantly.
A trace of incredulity flashed across her frost-like cold face, as if what she saw was the most absurd illusion in the world.
Her cold beautiful eyes trembled constantly, the icy, abyss-like deep killing intent within them shattered by this sudden shock.
