If a mighty expert like Meng Zhao, whose martial arts had reached the divine and transcended into sainthood, guided them at his side, the two of them would surely achieve something in their future cultivation.
The path of cultivation emphasized Dharma, companions, wealth, and land. Of these, companions were an indispensable part. Meng Zhao could make up for the predicament of the Shadow Mountain Lineage, whose great cultivators had yet to emerge and thus could not guide them.
Nor was Horse-Face Ghost merely indulging in wild fantasies. He had only watched a little of Meng Zhao's methods, yet so many insights and inspirations had surged forth. Clearly, the other had reached the realm where mastery of one method illuminated a hundred methods. Even without truly cultivating the orthodox arts of Shadow Mountain, he had more than enough ability to guide them.
At that moment, dazzling light also burst forth above the Poison Grotto's heavens, blanketing the entire land beneath it.
The golden giant dragon Meng Zhao had blasted forth tore through the sky and plunged into the Lesser Heavenly Dao's Eye, giving rise to a tremendous storm.
Beneath the brilliant light, the originally pitch-black earth throughout the Poisonous Cave Space seemed to have been soaked in dye. In an exceedingly short time, it changed from black to white, then from white to red, finally becoming a blood-red land, bleak and desolate as a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.
Yan Libing had yet to notice anything amiss beyond the change in color, but Horse-Face Ghost had already sensed something and was greatly horrified.
Within the range of his spiritual perception, not a single living creature remained anywhere in this vast Poisonous Cave Land. There were only corpses, all slain by that brilliant light.
That was merely within the