Meng Chao narrowed his eyes and looked in the direction Ice Storm was pointing.
He discovered that Thousand Blade Peak and the rolling mountains around it, including the lone peaks floating in midair like islands, were completely different.
They did not resemble naturally formed folds in the earth, with relatively gentle, soft curves.
Instead, they looked like abrupt stone pillars rising from the ground, packed tightly together in a jagged, interlocking formation.
And because vegetation could hardly grow on stone pillars that stood almost perpendicular to the ground, the bare ridges looked incomparably sharp, like gleaming blades, spears, swords, and halberds, spraying undisguised killing intent toward the nearby sky.
Of course, what troubled Meng Chao was not how steep Thousand Blade Peak was.
With his current abilities, even if every cliff face on Thousand Blade Peak were as smooth as a mirror, as long as there were cracks as thin as hairs, he could climb them as though walking on level ground.
The problem was that Thousand Blade Peak was also a floating mountain.
It hovered at least several hundred meters above the ground.
And between Thousand Blade Peak and the ground, fierce winds howled and clouds swirled. Invisible, formless turbulent currents slammed viciously into the base of the mountain range, accompanied by faint roars like a tiger's roar, dragon's cry.
One could imagine just how complex the spirit magnetic environment in midair was, and how terrifying the Spiritual Energy-laden gale winds were.
There was no shortage of birds and beasts within Turan Holy Mountain.
In fact, because few people had set foot here over the past three thousand years, and the spiritual aura here was far denser than in the outside world, the Totem Beasts that lived here might not have been as enormous as the colossal creatures outside,