However, as the black-robed Cultivator was still about three thousand meters above the city, he suddenly stopped moving. A profound look appeared in his eyes, as if he were in a position of ultimate authority, as if the great Dao of the Heavens gave him the right to look down on all living things.
As he floated there, it seemed like the Heavens and the Earth were fused together, inseparable. And yet, at the same time, it was as if they were separated, congealed into his own Dao, making the will of Heaven impossible to expunge.
It was as if everything in the world existed because of his will. This was because he had long since reached the Spirit Severing stage, and his first Severing. As for what had been severed, only people of the same stage might be able to pick up on some of the clues.
“Fellow Daoist Hanxue, we haven’t seen each other for several hundred years. Still on your deathbed? Why don’t you let me see you on your way?” As his eyes swept across the land, it was as if none of the Cultivators there deserved to be within his line of sight. What he was looking at was located deep in a subterranean chamber. There, sitting cross-legged atop a star-shaped altar, was an old man. He was completely withered and looked like a corpse.
“Still sleeping?” continued the black-robed Cultivator in a grating voice. “It seems my attempts to determine whether you are still alive were nothing but a waste. Let’s end this farce.” He shook his hand and then waved his arm.
The land in all directions began to quake. A Heavenly Pit suddenly appeared in the ground, right in the middle of the city!
It was at this very moment that the same ancient voice he had heard before once again spoke into Meng Hao’s ear.
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