Even as Meng Hao reeled with shock, he suddenly looked over at the fourth mountain peak. Yet again, he saw the same man, standing with his back toward him. He radiated ancientness, and caused Meng Hao to begin to breathe heavily.
It seemed almost as if the man could sense Meng Hao looking at him. He slowly turned to look at Meng Hao.
He couldn’t clearly see what the man looked like, but Meng Hao’s brain filled with roaring nonetheless. Suddenly, the world he was looking at began to shatter, layer by layer. It quickly vanished, like smoke into thin air. Instead of the flourishing Sect of ancient times, everything was now wreckage and ruins.
At the same time, the river of stars flowed toward the ruins of the ancient Demon Immortal Sect. As it swept across the ruins, all of the dust motes spread out and then began to descend down onto the enormous Sect.
Meng Hao was among the falling dots, as were the several dozen Cultivators from the great lands of South Heaven. All of them were scattered into different locations.
Meng Hao, of course, was the only one among their number who was awake. His mind spun as his body, completely out of his own control, shot down toward the ruins at incredible speed. The mountains in front of him grew larger and larger. An aura of death and rot blasted against his face, and then, he was shooting toward the second mountain peak. A roaring sound could then be heard, and it was in this instant that Meng Hao suddenly regained control of this body. The power of his Cultivation base exploded out, and he lifted up his right hand.
He landed onto the ground on one knee. Dust shot away from him in all directions, and his hair whipped about. When he looked up, his eyes were gleaming.