The sky was dark, and violet rain fell in buckets. The only thing Meng Hao could see in all directions was a vast sea.
Waves undulated across its surface, pushed along by a cold wind. His hair drifted up and his clothes rippled as he floated in mid-air looking out soundlessly at the sea.
It seemed as if all life in the entire world was completely gone and buried. The only thing left behind was his loneliness. It floated in his heart for a moment before he shook his head, causing it to fade away.
He proceeded on at top speed. The parrot followed, occasionally letting out an arrogant squawk.
“La lala la la, I’m a seagull…!” The parrot suddenly dove into the water, only to shoot up into the air again off into the distance. It seemed extremely happy.
The vast sea seemed endless. Meng Hao continued on for a few more months until he was deep into what had once been the Western Desert Central region. Here, he could see the very tips of what had once been tall mountains, but were now islands.
There were no Cultivators and no neo-demons. There were only… occasional floating corpses.
Everything was deathly still.
Another seven days passed. Up ahead of Meng Hao appeared a rather familiar-looking mountain peak that was now an island. Meng Hao stopped in mid-air. After examining it for a long moment, he realized that he recognized this particular mountain.
He had passed it when traveling with the Crow Divinity Tribe. As of now, the mountain itself was buried under the sea. All that was visible now was about sixty meters of its top which made up the island.
“This place should do.” He didn’t proceed any further north. Continuing on would only mean fewer islands, and deeper waters. The current water level was what had been mid-air in the past.
He landed on the mountain-island and sat down cross-legged. He took a deep breath and looked out at the sea around him. As far as he was concerned, this was the perfect place to practice secluded meditation. It was very safe.
Because of the exterminating power of the violet rain, it was an Apocalypse to Western Desert Cultivators. To Meng Hao, though, it offered no inconvenience. In fact, once he gained enlightenment and produced a violet rain totem, this place would be like his own personal sea.
After some time passed, Meng Hao closed his eyes. There was no longer any five-colored glow about him. He was completely of the great circle of the Gold Core stage. His five elements tattoos glittered brightly as he began to meditate.
The parrot flew around, occasionally flying off into the distance, occasionally returning. No matter where it went, it seemed capable of finding things to amuse and entertain itself.
At the moment, it was pretending to be a seagull, squawking and crying out in delight. The meat jelly wasn’t willing to be outdone. A pop rang out as it also turned into a seagull and then rolled its eyes superciliously at the parrot.
It was at this point that the two buffoons began to have a contest….
Time passed. Months went by. Meng Hao’s Cultivation base continued to remain at its peak. Suddenly, his eyes opened, and a brilliant glow could be seen within his pupils.
He looked down at the blood totem tattoo on his right index finger, and as he did, an expression of determination appeared on his face.
“My final totem!
“Blood represents life, and fights back against all forms of death. This is the part of the Water-type totem tattoo which exemplifies life.