As soon as he neared the altar, Meng Hao could sense at least ten streams of Divine Sense fall onto his body. It was impossible to tell what type of cultivation was practiced by the owners of these streams of Divine Sense. It was too deeply hidden. The level of the Cultivators was also impossible to determine. There was even a strand of Demonic Qi present, which stuck out to Meng Hao. Inwardly, he gave a cold laugh. He knew that if he did anything out of the ordinary, this place would instantly be filled with at least ten Nascent Soul Cultivators.
He looked up at the statue with glittering eyes as he walked past casually. He didn’t stop. However, what he did do was secretly merge his Spiritual Sense in the Demonic Qi down below. It slowly spread out underground, undetectable. Based on his several days of study and observation, Meng Hao was now certain that this altar was the center of the spell formation.
As the Spiritual Sense spread out, Meng Hao could see the majestic spell formation. Furthermore, at the center of the spell formation was a pulsing black mist. Whatever was inside that black mist was impossible to see.
It was at this moment that a tremor ran through his mind, the source of which was inside his bag of holding. It was an archaic voice that he had not heard for a long time during his time in the Western Desert. It echoed out to fill his mind.
“Third Generation Demon Sealer blood refinement, Demon Weapon Lonelytomb!
“The League of Demon Sealers! The First Generation is the Ancestor. The Second Generation is the Inheritor. The Third Generation is the most powerful. After the Fourth Generation, the successive generations grow weaker…. But the Ninth Generation is the ultimate! If the Ninth Generation is not slain, it is the pinnacle!”