In Zhang Chen's eyes, the Queen Mother of the West was the embodiment of the Dao itself. Was there anyone in this world who dared provoke her?
Yet he truly felt that Kunlun Mountain's atmosphere was somewhat off. An inexplicable aura seemed to press down from all directions between heaven and earth. Though that aura was illusory and intangible, it undeniably existed—it was an intuition on the level of the Primordial Spirit.
Yet Zhang Chen could not discover where that sense of danger came from.
Time flew by. The altar rose inch by inch from the earth, a vast pillar reaching the heavens gradually accumulating upon the land and thrusting straight toward the clouds.
The altar grew ever higher, and more and more strongmen died. Countless strongmen perished, only to be sent back into the furnace and refined into molten iron, melted into a pool of liquid. Yet even more strongmen were bred, joining the construction of the altar like a mighty army of ants.
In the blink of an eye, only fifty years remained of the thousand-year deadline the Queen Mother of the West had set. By now, the altar was gradually nearing completion, with only the finer details left to be continually repaired.
"At this pace, I will certainly complete the altar within a thousand years. This altar is built atop the dragon vein, suppressing the reverse scale of the Kunlun Dragon Vein. It is nailed into the reverse scale of the entire Kunlun Mountain range, pinning the Kunlun Dragon Vein firmly here. What an inconceivable formation. By all rights, dragon veins shatter all laws; no formation should be able to do anything to a dragon vein. Yet this altar's formation can actually affect a dragon vein. Truly incredible." Zhang Chen stood atop the high platform, the sea