Chapter 1865

The Rose-Petal Rain displayed its true powers as the petals shattered dozens of Thorold's spears. The petals then continued their course toward Thorold. Following the sparks that were produced from the explosions, Thorold's pupils contracted as he felt an impending sense of doom. As a level nine royal saint, he was accustomed to effortlessly dispatching same-level practitioners, and even level one supreme saints posed little difficulty to him. Unfortunately, Severin was brimming with a menacing aura that he had never encountered before.

The approaching storm of delicate petals left Thorold with no time to formulate a contingency plan. He could only raise his hand and command the thunderbolts around him to surge wildly. The air around him was whipped up a storm, and the thunderbolt vortex erupted with a formidable power. A deafening, muffled sound of thunder was heard, and serpent-like electric currents swiftly enveloped Thorold's body. He had fashioned an armor out of the lightning.