Patriarch Huyan’s body trembled. The three scales on his forehead flickered. It was as if his consciousness had been restored a bit in the face of this imminent crisis.
However, even as he recovered his faculties, the magical symbol closed in on him, emitting shocking roars. It slammed into Patriarch Huyan, causing the sound of an enormous explosion to lift up into the sky. An intense howl of despair could be heard from Patriarch Huyan as the magical symbol shoved him down into the Violet Sea.
The water seethed as it surged out in all directions. The magical symbol descended, shooting through the water until it slammed onto the seafloor.
Everything shook. Patriarch Huyan’s aura was nothing but a thread, and his body was virtually completely shattered, sealed tightly onto the bottom of the Violet Sea.
His Ancestral Awakening body was disappearing. As it did, his Nascent Divinity slowly became visible. Struggling, it began to transform into glittering dots of light that slowly dissipated out into the Violet Sea.
However, even as the Nascent Divinity Spirit Immortal was about to disappear, Meng Hao made a grasping motion toward the Violet Sea. A power of sealing appeared. It branded down onto Patriarch Huyan’s Nascent Divinity before it could die, instantly sealing it within the blood-colored mask.
“Want to die? It’s not that easy,” said Meng Hao coolly as he sealed it. “It would be too much of a pity to let a Nascent Divinity Spirit Immortal like this disappear. I think I’ll turn it into my third Soul of Lightning.”
Next, he produced some medicinal pills which he immediately consumed. He then closed his eyes for a moment and hovered there in mid-air. After some time passed, his eyes snapped open, and they glowed with a brilliant light. He suddenly slapped his hand onto the blood-colored mask.
The flag of three streamers appeared in Meng Hao’s hand, as well as a glowing black wheel that resembled a chariot’s wheel.
As the surroundings returned to their normal appearance, Meng Hao inspected the wheel with glittering eyes. Then, he sent his Divine Sense inside it, branding it with multiple layers, to make it completely his own.
It was an extraordinary treasure. Despite having its connection to Patriarch Huyan severed, Meng Hao still encountered some resistance when he was trying to brand it. He gave a cold snort, causing the Time Sword Formation to appear and emanate intense pressure. He also entered the Seventh Anima, causing its Divine Sense with a range just a hair away from 30,000 meters to bore into the Wheel of Time.
Meng Hao took a deep breath as the power of the successive brands caused the Wheel of Time to shrink down. It turned into a black glow that Meng Hao then swallowed. It sank down into his dantian region, suppressed by the seven Nascent Souls there.
Meanwhile back in the Black Lands…
The same moment in which Meng Hao sealed Patriarch Huyan’s Nascent Divinity Spirit Immortal, Patriarch Huyan’s white-robed true self was sitting cross-legged in meditation. Suddenly, a tremor ran through his body.
His face grew red, and although his eyes did not open, he coughed up a huge mouthful of blood.
As he coughed up the blood, his features changed. Before, he looked like a middle-aged man. Now, he seemed older. His hair was gray, and his skin wrinkled. An aura of decay suddenly emanated out from his body.
The aura was intense, and seemed to cause the flame of Patriarch Huyan’s life force to darken by quite a bit.
For his clone to be sealed, and its connection to him severed, had caused severe internal injuries to Patriarch Huyan. Were it an ordinary clone, it wouldn’t matter. Clones such as that were dispensable. But this Divine Clone was different. It was like a second life for him. As of this moment, his longevity was reduced, and his Cultivation base sank. It was no longer at the peak it had been before, and he could no longer wield the same level of power as earlier.
His face was pale. His body trembled as he took a deep breath. Even as he was about to begin treating his injuries, another tremor ran through him, and his eyes snapped open.
This was the first time he had opened his eyes during his secluded meditation of a hundred years. They did not open to shine with an expression of success. The entire hundred years of secluded meditation had been wasted, causing something that seemed like a tempest to appear in his eyes as soon as he opened them.
He glared at the space in front of him where three figures were materializing. One was an old person, another sported a luxuriant beard, and the third was a young boy in a red robe.