Fierce Dragon Poison Howl—a shrill, venomous soundwave that swept away mountains and seas, pierced clouds, and split stone.
From the earth, rolling earthen-yellow light swept up endless mud, sand, and rock, fusing them into a single mass that formed the body of a dragon vein, stretching high into the sky.
A hundred meters, a thousand meters; a hundred zhang, a thousand zhang—soaring into the clouds, thrusting straight into the heavens.
Even with true qi stimulating their eyes, Yan Libing and the Horse-Face Ghost could no longer see Meng Zhao standing upon the dragon vein's horns.
What they saw was a scene straight out of myth and legend: a divine being riding a dragon into ascension, breaking through the heavy locks of space and transcending away.
For that single moment, that single sight, the two seemed to glimpse an eternity hence: Meng Zhao again, riding a True Dragon as he broke through the great world of the Divine Land and transcended away, becoming an eternal, indestructible supreme sovereign, rivaling the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors—the sacred figures of antiquity.
Then that spiritual sensation vanished. High in the distant heavens, the poisonous dragon formed from the earth's dragon vein began a heaven-shaking, world-astonishing battle against the Lesser Heavenly Dao's Eye above.
Shattered earth and stone came raining down like falling meteors from the heavens. Wrapped in streaming fire, they struck the already desolate land, whose source energy had been drained dry, leaving behind one irreparable scar after another—vast craters where flames ignited and formed lines of beacon fire.
Even a mythical war between Gods and Devils would have been no more than this.
As the two watched this earthshaking battle with rapt attention, hoping that Meng Zhao would defeat the Lesser Heavenly Dao's Eye with his peerless divine art, they failed to