Song Zhong had only just entered the mountain gate when he immediately felt an ancient aura, far denser than the outside world's, rush toward him.
And everyone's eyes were instantly drawn straight ahead, to the enormous bronze vessel at the very center of the mountain gate.
The vessel was over a thousand zhang tall, ancient and heavy, its surface covered in intricate patterns.
And directly above the vessel, a long saber was thrust into it.
A saber that made every cultivator present feel their souls tremble with just one glance.
The blade was pitch-black as ink, as if formed from the purest darkness, swallowing even light so that none could escape.
This saber had no brilliant glow or wondrous radiance, not even the slightest terrifying pressure.
Yet for some reason, the moment one saw the long saber, waves of suffocation surged up.
"Pfft..."
Suddenly, a cultivator opened his mouth and spat out a mouthful of crimson blood. Blood tears even flowed from his eyes, and then his entire body, beyond his control, withered and collapsed.
Song Zhong's gaze could not help shifting toward that cultivator. He was a cultivator of the Tentacle Clan, relatively weak, only at the Supreme Realm.
"Thud..."
"Thud..."
Very quickly, several more sounds of bodies falling rang out one after another.
Every cultivator who fell was a Supreme Realm cultivator.
Although they were Forget Dao Realm cultivators, because they came from the Top Thirty Great Thousand Worlds and had also been protected by experts of their clans in the earlier battle, they had still made it inside.
On the contrary, those cultivators from Great Thousand Worlds ranked farther behind—even Quasi-Saint existences, even Half-Step Saints like Rain Peak Quasi-Saint—had not even had the chance to enter this place because their races' strength was insufficient.
Only, for these