"Why had the original Dao Sprouts stopped growing?" Wang Xuan's expression was grave. After studying five kinds of "Dao Sprouts," he temporarily rested.
He gazed out over the boundless "Exotic Power Sea." Although his cultivation was rising, he felt no exhilaration. The more he reflected on this, the heavier his heart became.
It was one thing for the "Dao Sprouts" to stop growing. More terrifying still, most of the original Dao Sprouts had died—withered, decayed, rotted apart, each displaying a different state.
Thus far, he had found only five surviving "Dao Sprouts." The more he pondered it, the more a chill ran down his spine.
Because in his view, every original Dao Sprout, if allowed to develop normally, would become a Great Dao.
Had they died naturally, or had they been strangled in the cradle?
No matter what, he did not believe that after he dug and dug through his Life Soil and bored through the meteorite passage, an endless "Exotic Power Sea" had simply been born.
It was far too magnificent. The endless "Mythological Ocean," the dense Supernatural Factors—no matter how he looked at it, they resembled one embryonic Source after another.
He did not believe this place had come into being because of him.
How many years had passed? Wang Xuan did not know. While comprehending the Dao, he seemed to have broken free of time and space, unaware of how many years had flowed by in the Real World.
By all reason, it should not have been a short time. He did not stop, continuing onward. He crossed the majestic, boundless sea of extreme cold, sinister chill steaming up along the way. Behind him, even mythology was frozen solid, leaving only a string of footprints.
The deeper he went into the "Mythological Sea Cluster," the stranger it