His robe was black, his eyebrows sharp and slanted, and his eyes shone as brightly as the stars. As of this moment, Patriarch Huyan seemed to have recovered his youth. His aura was intense, capable of shaking the Heavens, causing everything to dim and a huge wind to kick up.
Meng Hao’s eyes narrowed as this indescribable, formless aura exploded out from Patriarch Huyan.
The handful streams of Spirit Severing Divine Sense were now all looking at Patriarch Huyan.
“The great circle of the First Severing!” said the Spirit Severing Patriarch from the Wild Flame Tribe. He was a tall, stalwart old man, within whose eyes could be seen an expression of intense concentration.
“Patriarch Huyan never reached the great circle before….” said the red-robed boy from the great Cloud Sky Tribe. “Oh, I understand. He used the eradication of his Tribe to complete the great circle. How cold-blooded, this Huyan Yunming!” Shocked, the boy looked at Patriarch Huyan with a frown.
Meanwhile, in the other Tribes in the Black Lands who were observing the goings-on, most of the Cultivators weren’t able to tell the exact extent to which Patriarch Huyan’s aura had grown. However, it was shocking to them nonetheless.
In the great Cloud Sky Tribe, Zhou Dekun’s eyes went wide and his heart began to beat nervously. After learning that Meng Hao had returned, he had felt happiness, but even more so, worry.
In the great Demon Butterfly Tribe, Duo Lan sat quietly off to the side, gazing at Meng Hao. A stubborn gleam could be seen in her eyes. During the past more than one hundred years, she had learned a lot about Meng Hao. She was a Chosen, and although she hated to admit it, the distance between the two of them was vast.
The moment in which Patriarch Huyan’s Cultivation base exploded up to the great circle of the First Severing, everyone who was watching, be they Spirit Severing Patriarchs or Cultivators from other Tribes in the Black Lands, were thoroughly shaken.
Within Meng Hao’s eyes, a strong desire to battle was suddenly ignited.
A moment later, though, he frowned.
Deep within his bag of holding, he could sense the Demon Spirit emanating an intense teleportation power. It seemed that it could teleport him away at any moment.
Meng Hao couldn’t do anything about, but neither could he ignore it. He slapped his bag of holding, producing the blood-colored mask, which he slipped on his face. At the same time, the mastiff lifted its head up and howled. It transformed into a red beam of light which shot toward Meng Hao.
The red light fused into the mask, causing Meng Hao’s robes to whip about and his hair to float up. His aura instantly burst out violently.
Such eruption instantly caught the attention of the Spirit Severing Patriarchs, as well as all the observers from the other Tribes in the Black Lands.
Amidst the roaring sound, Meng Hao’s robes became blood red, as did his hair. A glow of blood surrounded him, and behind him, a red throne appeared. Seated there was a woman wearing a mask identical to Meng Hao’s. As she became visible, she sat down coldly onto the throne.
The Blood Immortal!
In this moment the entire world was crimson. Even people who were merely watching the scene on a screen suddenly felt as if all the blood in their bodies wished to burst out.
Meng Hao looked up, and an oppressive glow could be seen in his eyes.