One word. The instant it echoed out, the azure-masked Cultivator began to tremble. Luo Chong and the others watched in astonishment as a pulsating black aura emerged from his ears, eyes, nose and mouth. Soon a massive black aura was spreading out from him. As for Duo Lan, she could see that above the old man’s head was a phantom figure; it was none other than Meng Hao’s Righteous Bestowal Demonic Incarnation.
The blurry Demonic Incarnation burrowed into the man’s body through the top of his head. The azure-masked Cultivator began to scream, and his right arm suddenly began to quiver. Luo Chong watched on in astonishment as the man’s right arm suddenly struck out toward his own forehead.
A boom could be heard as the man’s head exploded, killing him instantly.
“Take care of yourselves,” said Meng Hao coolly before disappearing.
Everything was as silent as death.
Luo Chong’s body shook uncontrollably, and he immediately abandoned any thoughts about what he had just been talking about. The only thing he could think of was that he would never come with three hundred kilometers of this place ever again.
Duo Lan was panting and her eyes were wide. She had seen some so-called Demon Lords in the Western Desert, but none of them were as bizarrely frightening as this one.
“What if it was turned into a totem…?” thought Duo Lan. Her heart beat even faster.
Maintaining their silence, the remaining four Cultivators shot off into the distance.
Outside the Immortal’s cave, the retreat of Luo Chong and the others caused the eyes of the more than one hundred Cultivators to fill with fanaticism. Cultivators worshipped the powerful, and the power displayed by Meng Hao just now left their minds reeling and hearts trembling.