Others directly shot into nearby Cultivators. Even as they screamed out, their bodies withered, whereupon more thorns would explode out.
Meng Hao was the center of it all as thorns began to stab out from the city walls themselves. This, of course, caused a great commotion. The thorns actually didn’t distinguish between Holy Snow City Cultivators or those from the Black Lands Palace. They stabbed through all of them, absorbing their flesh, blood and life force, and then expanding. Within the space of a few breaths, the area surrounding Meng Hao for three thousand meters was a world filled with thorns.
This, of course, instantly affected the course of the battle. Vast numbers of Black Lands Palace Cultivators retreated backward in shock. Unfortunately, they were too slow and were still stabbed through by the thorns. Soon, the entire city was bristling with thorns, sharp, fierce and bright red. By this time, the thorns were already expanding outside the city as well.
Back inside the city, all of the Holy Snow City Cultivators stood with pale faces, not daring to move. Everything around them was surrounded by countless thorns. They looked out at the Black Lands Palace Cultivators and their beasts outside of the city. Howling in anguish, they retreated at top speed as thorns burst out from the ground around them.
The sky wasn’t safe either. The thorns shot up into the air, stabbing into any living thing that flew about up above.
By now, everything seemed to be covered with thorns. Outside the city, only a few hundred of the Black Lands Palace and Western Desert Cultivators managed to flee without being affected. They stared back at the scene behind them with shock and astonishment.
Up above, the four Grand Elders and the Nascent Soul Cultivators from the Black Lands Palace and the Western Desert were no longer capable of fighting. They had split apart, and were constantly blocking the shooting thorns.
As of now, all eyes on the battlefield were fixed on Meng Hao. In front of him was a ferocious, gigantic thorn, rising straight up into the sky. It emanated a Blood Qi, and was covered by countless smaller thorns. It was thoroughly sinister.
Meng Hao seemed to be the very center of it all, and the only place that didn’t have any thorns. He seemed to be the source of all the thorns, and as he slowly rose to his feet, countless gasps filled the air.
Around his right hand swirled innumerable leaves, each one of which was covered with thorns. Not a single person would disbelieve that Meng Hao was the source of all the thorns everywhere.
He took a deep breath. He’d never imagined that the Thorn Rampart seed would be so astonishing. The fact that it couldn’t tell the difference between friend and foe was something he couldn’t do anything about. It required his power of catalysis to grow, but when it came to sucking the life and blood out of Cultivators, Meng Hao could do nothing to control it, although he could sense it.
“Grandmaster Meng….” said a nearby Holy Snow City Cultivator. His left leg had been stabbed by a thorn. As soon as the word left his mouth, a thorn suddenly flew over, and he closed his mouth. The thorn stopped only an inch from his forehead, where it hovered like a snake for a moment before moving away.
Everything was quiet. All of the Cultivators in the area who had been stabbed by thorns, be they from the Western Desert or the Black Lands, stood stock still, not daring to utter a peep.
Up in mid-air, the faces of the Nascent Soul Cultivators flickered, and they also stopped moving, not daring to fly or speak. The reason for this was that they were surrounded by tens of thousands of thorns. From the looks of things, if they made even the slightest move, the thorns would instantly stab through them and kill them.
Meng Hao took a deep breath, and his eyes shone brightly.
On the city wall, and outside the city, were countless Cultivators and beasts who had been stabbed by thorns. Their faces were pale and filled with dread as they gazed over at Meng Hao.
The few hundred people who had managed to escape the danger looked at Meng Hao, as quiet as cicadas during the winter. At the moment, everyone on the battlefield suddenly realized that the outcome of the entire battle now lay in one person’s hand.