Suddenly, a vortex appeared, with a gaping mouth like that of a black hole. As it appeared in mid-air, it emitted no sound.
The sudden appearance of a vortex like this would naturally arouse quite a bit of attention. However, few Southern Domain Cultivators ever came to this area.
Moments later, someone emerged from the vortex of the black hole. He staggered forward, then looked back at the vortex, causing his white hair to whip around his head.
On his forehead could be seen a mark that looked both like a scale and a feather.
This was none other than Meng Hao.
Using the powerful momentum of the roc, he had activated his good luck charm to teleport away from the region of the Rebirth Cave, to reappear here.
He floated in mid-air, watching the vortex disappear, a look of confusion covering his face. Everything around him was quiet, except for the sound of the wind.
After some time passed, he produced a jade slip, and looked down at it with a serious expression. Having confirmed his current location, he let out a sigh. He turned toward the direction of the Violet Fate Sect and gave a deep bow.
He held the bow for the space of several breaths. When he looked back up, the confusion in his eyes was gone, replaced instead with determination.
“I spent roughly ten comfortable years in the Violet Fate Sect,” he murmured quietly. “I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to live life as a lone Rogue Cultivator.” He waved his right hand, causing a violet-colored seed to fly out and burrow into the ground. Suddenly, the dirt heaved, and a mass of thick vines flew up to circle around Meng Hao.
He sat down cross-legged in their midst. Eyes glittering, he passed his will into the vines, and they surged forward, carrying him toward the Black Lands.
He closed his eyes as he traveled as quickly as possible away from the Southern Domain. He would not allow any delays. However, his Cultivation base was unstable at the moment, and he had been seriously injured. His life force and longevity had been restored somewhat by the scale-feather. However, what remained was still less than a sixty year cycle.
Unless it were absolutely necessary, Meng Hao had no desire to waste or consume it.
“I’ll be in the Black Lands soon; once I’m there, I can find a suitable place to treat my injuries…. It’s impossible to say for sure how long it will be before people from the Ji Clan come looking for me to kill me.” His expression was calm as he traveled along, sitting cross-legged atop the vines. He permitted them to move forward at the fastest speed possible, which allowed him to spend some time tending to his wounds.
He slapped his bag of holding to produce the copper mirror. He glanced at it for a moment, then put it back.
“As soon as I reached Core Formation,” he thought, “I got the feeling that all I had to do was calm myself and cast my sense into the mirror. With that, I would be able to awaken the spirit within…. Unfortunately, the circumstances were far too dire at the time.” He wasn’t sure what would happen when the spirit within the item emerged. Now, his mind was not at peace, so it wasn’t the best time to attempt to communicate with it; he would wait until after he was fully healed.
Next, he produced Ji Hongdong’s bag of holding. The first thing he noticed was a magical sealing mark on its surface. It wouldn’t be easy to open. After a moment’s consideration, he put it back. With the flick of a hand, he next produced a small bell.
This bell was the magical item Ji Hongdong had used. Meng Hao examined it for a moment, then closed his eyes and focused on dealing with his injuries.