A gentle breeze blew slowly, sweeping over the grass on the ground, over the Sea of Thunder, and tussling the robes of the gods, creating a rustling sound.
Everyone stared tensely at the gradually dispersing Sea of Thunder.
Finally, as the last surge of Thunderous Light vanished between heaven and earth, a hundred-meter radius of void that had been occupied by the Sea of Thunder was revealed.
"Is he dead?"
"Has Anahita died?"
Everyone held their breath and looked over simultaneously; upon looking, everyone froze in shock—alive, not dead?
At this moment, Anahita was still floating in midair, but his body was tattered and torn, his clothes burned to ashes, which were then blown away by the breeze, dissipating between heaven and earth.
All that remained was the naked Anahita, left there.
Now, his situation seemed quite terrible; his body was as black as charred wood, his figure thin as a dried-up tree, resembling a tree trunk that had been struck by lightning.