The tenth outpost was waiting, its spell formation fully activated in preparation to meet this deadly foe.
It was night now, and the light of the spell formation was not soft, but rather, resplendent. It shone out onto the waters of the sea with brilliant colors. The radiance of the light emanated a mighty aura which made it clear that this spell formation was far more powerful than the formations from the other outposts.
In fact, there was no way to compare them. The spell formation of the tenth outpost seemed so incredibly powerful that it would surely make it very difficult for Meng Hao to break through it.
In the middle of the spell formation, the Cultivators waited vigilantly, their Qi settled and their minds calm.
There were sixteen Nascent Soul Cultivators present who sat cross-legged, meditating. Three were at the peak of the late Nascent Soul stage. Those three sat in three different directions, each sharing a portion of the recoil caused by the spell formation.
There were even more Cultivators maintaining the general operation of the spell formation. The entire outpost was completely silent.
They knew of the destruction of the other nine outposts, and of the slaughter carried out by Meng Hao. They knew that they were about to face up against something completely terrifying.
However, they weren’t very afraid. They knew that Patriarch Huyan was coming, and so had made up their minds to not leave the spell formation. They had quite a bit of trust in its strength, and believed that as long as they stuck together, Meng Hao would not be able to quickly break through.
As long as they could hold out until Patriarch Huyan arrived, then the sky would become clear after the storm, so to speak, and everything would return to normal. Meng Hao would assuredly be killed!
Virtually everyone in the tenth outpost felt the same way. Also within the spell formation was a tall rack, upon which hung the corpses of fifty members of the Golden Crow Tribe. Not a single one remained alive. They were all dead….
They had died days before, actually. Especially noteworthy was that one of the dead tribe members had no body, only the head, that of an old man. His Cultivation base had clearly been destroyed before he died, rendering him nothing but a mortal.
Also within the spell formation were two enormous war chariots shaped like crossbows. They glowed with a black radiance, and had an indistinct, fierce aura. Cultivators were mounted on the chariots, ready to use them at a moment’s notice.
Time passed. Soon, the deepest hour of night approached. The sky was pitch black. The only sound that could be heard was the gentle rise and fall of the waves. All of a sudden, a beam of bright light appeared in the sky. It instantly caught the attention of all the Cultivators.
“He’s here!”
“This Meng Hao has really got some guts. However, it doesn’t matter that he dares to attack us. He’ll never be able to break through the spell formation!” Quite a few people were looking up with cold smiles on their faces. However, even as they looked up at the red glow…