The Gray Flood Dragon's Space Divine Ability was exceptionally refined.
He wielded Space Folding with consummate mastery. At least Fat Tiger had not coughed up furballs, making it remarkably comfortable—far more delicate than a certain white one's violent Spatial Jump. Six-Winged suspected the Gray Flood Dragon had researched and improved it specifically to take mortal wives and concubines traveling; otherwise, with an ancient beast's physique, there had been no need at all.
After two consecutive Space Foldings, they stopped and saw an enormous pit in the ground.
The pit was roughly several dozen li across, plunging straight down with sheer, precipitous walls.
Several rivers and streams around it flowed to this point and spilled over as waterfalls large and small. With so many waterfalls, the deep hole was shrouded in watery mist. Stubborn trees even grew from the surrounding cliff faces, rooting themselves in cracks in the stone and letting the waterfalls scour over them. The sunlight here was excellent, and the moisture at the mouth of the pit hung like rainbow bridges. Many powerful cultivators gathered around the rim, immortals, gods, demon beasts, none disturbing one another.
Bai Yujun's group appeared at the cliffside. Several nearby male and female immortal cultivators gave slight nods in greeting.
Perhaps with so many immortal cultivators and demon beasts, rules of the Jianghu had spontaneously formed. No one fought or slaughtered around the deep pit; all quietly studied it.
Six-Winged looked at the food filling the skies and heaved a long, melancholy sigh.
Fat Tiger habitually pawed at a stone, intending to toss it down.
Bai Yujun glanced at the cultivators on the ground and in the sky. There were many within the deep hole as well—some meditated to regulate their breath, some pondered, and others sat together eating and drinking.
The Gray