Hongjun inclined his head slightly, which counted as his response to Yang Mei.
He turned around, his ancient, indifferent eyes falling on the Primordial Wilderness mighty ones not far away, all of whom Yang Mei had casually suppressed until they could not move.
Di Jun, East Prince Gong, Taiqing, Yuanshi, Jieyin, Zhunti...
Every one of them had once been a peak existence who had called wind and summoned clouds, stirring the order of the Primordial Wilderness.
Now all of them were pinned in place by Yang Mei's invisible power, unable even to raise a hand.
Then he slowly lifted his right hand, spread his five fingers, and gave a gentle squeeze toward the crowd.
"I shall borrow your origins for a moment."
Di Jun, East Prince Gong, Taiqing, Yuanshi, and the others' hearts suddenly sank.
Buzz—
Space twisted strangely at that instant.
Everyone felt as if, deep within their souls, an invisible giant hand had seized them viciously, then yanked outward with brutal force.
"Ah—!"
Shrieks so miserable they scarcely sounded human burst from their throats one after another.
They could clearly feel the power of origin they had bitterly cultivated for countless Kalpas, which had long since fused with them as one, inseparable from their very selves.
It was being forcibly stripped away by an irresistible power, torn from their Dao Bodies, from their Primordial Spirits!
It was a feeling thousands upon thousands of times more agonizing than having tendons pulled and bones flayed.
It was the ultimate terror of one's very existence being erased bit by bit.
They watched helplessly as streams of radiant light, containing their lifetime's cultivation, gathered uncontrollably toward that familiar yet unfamiliar figure in midair.
"Hongjun... you!" Taiqing's face twisted beyond recognition. He wanted to struggle, wanted to detonate his Primordial Spirit, but the