This was even more so when they noticed that inside the foggy wind ahead and behind were dozens of phantom figures. The figures were running, causing the ground to heave. It was easy to imagine how quickly they would be injured, or even killed, were they to be struck by the phantoms.
After all, the phantoms had just trampled a mid Core Formation Cultivator to death in an instant. This filled the other Cultivators’ hearts with dread.
It didn’t take long for them to realize that the phantoms running through the wind were actually none other than the more than one hundred Cultivators they had previously derided.
As they circled the area, their voices grew louder and louder.
“Have faith in the Lord Fifth, gain eternal life. When the Lord Fifth appears, who dares to cause strife!” The shocking sound of the voices shook the earth, causing everything to tremble and the other Cultivator’s faces to drain of blood.
“What spell formation is this?!” the words were not spoken by Patriarch Rubicund, whose heart trembled with fear and trepidation as he looked at the foggy wind around them growing less and less clear. Nor were they spoken by Patriarch Pockmarks, who stood there with an unsightly expression on his face.
Instead, they were spoken by another Cultivator. He was short, with a very large head. Because of that, he didn’t stand out very much within the crowd. Even Meng Hao hadn’t even noticed him.
When the big-headed Cultivator spoke out, looks of reverence appeared on the faces of many of the surrounding onlookers, who stepped back politely. Patriarch Pockmarks was from the Han River Sect. Patriarch Rubicund was from the Sky High Sect. And this big-headed Cultivator was the Patriarch of the third great Sect, the Talisman Sect.
His Cultivation base was at the late Core Formation stage. His methods were ruthless, and few people in Dongluo City would dare to provoke him. Furthermore, he was known to be very skilled with spell formations. As he stepped forward and looked out at the foggy wind, he slapped his bag of holding to produce a jade bracelet.
Patriarch Rubicund and Patriarch Pockmarks looked at Patriarch Big-head’s bag of holding with bitter smiles. They said nothing, but it was obvious that he hadn’t been part of the great Spirit Stone theft incident. Clearly, his bag of holding was completely intact.
Patriarch Big-head stared down at the bracelet, the surface of which was murky, but upon which could be seen over one hundred dots of light, moving to and fro. He studied it for a long moment and then took a deep breath. His eyes shone with amazement, and his heart trembled. “What a splendid Celestial spell formation,” he said. “This is a legendary magic from ancient times, long since lost to the world. And yet here it is today, being employed in front of our own eyes!
“This Celestial spell formation is based upon humans. Ancient Cultivators used powerful corporeal bodies to form the eye of the spell. The more people in the spell formation, the more power it can employ…. The wind of this spell formation has the potential to slay Immortals. Those phantoms are Human Celestials!!” Patriarch Big-head’s scalp was numb. He suddenly turned his head to look at the foggy wind behind them, and his eyes began to glitter brightly.
“However, there are only one hundred people powering this particular spell. Furthermore, these are not ancient Cultivators, and their Cultivation bases are varied and weak. In turn, that means… this spell formation can be broken! What is your choice, to break through the wind in front of us and slay the people therein, or break through the wind behind us, retreat and then come up with another plan?” He looked at Patriarch Pockmarks and Patriarch Rubicund, his eyes gleaming.
The three of them exchanged glances, whereupon their eyes filled with determination.
“I don’t want much,” said Patriarch Big-head with a smile, his eyes filled with avarice. “Just that parrot.”
“I want my belongings back, plus half of the contents of that guy’s bag of holding,” said Patriarch Pockmarks, his voice grim.
“The other half goes to me,” said Patriarch Rubicund, his killing intent flickering, “along with his life!”