At this thought, the last lingering notion in Mu Yi's heart vanished without a trace. Since that was the case, he would simply watch Meng Zhao perform. No matter how unwilling he was, faced with a trap that might have been laid by his ancestor and competition from a peerless figure like Meng Zhao, he felt utterly drained.
Mu Yi said no more, and Meng Zhao did not explain anything further—least of all the reason for his confidence. It was certainly not because he intended to rely on Gan Mingfeng and combine their strength to suppress Mu Yi.
Meng Zhao had never believed that Gan Mingfeng was of one heart with him, nor did he disdainfully seek to defeat Mu Yi through such means.
From beginning to end, his only Trump Card had been himself.
When the two finally arrived before that square space, beneath the blue quicksand-like Hidden Dragon Vein, they truly sensed just how majestic, vast, and inconceivable this power was.
Even though Meng Zhao's cultivation was already unrivaled and he could step into the Great Grandmaster realm at any moment, he still felt that this power was beyond his ability to contend with. After all, it was the spark the Yang Family had preserved through countless years, intending to use it to rise again from the ashes!
Just as the two arrived beneath the Hidden Dragon Vein, the quicksand-like vein seemed to have been stimulated. Billowing blue sand-like matter continuously condensed, contracted, and collapsed, swiftly forming the shape of a true dragon's head.
The enormous dragon head possessed the form of a true dragon, sky-blue in color. Its whiskers alone stretched more than ten meters, and its horns rose in rugged splendor. It floated in midair, looking down upon Meng Zhao and Mu Yi below.
Its pair