The roof of the Town Hall was gone.
The square before the Town Hall was turned into a thousands of meters deep lava pit by the heat of the Pan Jia sun.
Badly injured elders and leaders soaked in the lava dragged their broken bodies, howling with strong voices and cursing Ji Hao’s ancestors with the worst languages they knew.
Holding the dazzling Pan Jia sun, Ji Hao looked just like Taiyi, the ancient East Emperor. Quietly floating in the air, he was looking down at those people. The Pan Gu bell floated above his head, coiling in heatwaves and letting out a deep buzz.