The Little Boy’s voice was tender, happy, and proud. He was still young, only three or four years old. He didn’t know that the Thunder God had died in that brilliant light. This was the last time he saw his grandfather.
He was still too young and didn’t understand.
His sister and parents continued to cry, and in the end, they all knelt on the ground.
The great battle came to an end. All the demigods from the yang-realm died, and there wasn’t even a single illumination-level Evolver left. Only the old weasel left alive and entered the chaos.
The universe was very quiet. Everyone saw the final splendor before returning to darkness. Although the people from the yang-realm were killed, the price paid by the Yin-realm universe was too great, the Thunderlord, the Heavenly Blade, the Resurrection Lily, and Zhankong, who had illuminated an era, all died. Not a single person survived.