Zhou Xuan did not reply. He pulled up another set of data on the panel: the Central Brain System's reverse-analysis report on the law structure of the formation patterns.
The report showed that the underlying coding logic of the formation patterns matched none of the law systems currently known in the Cultivation World.
Their operation more closely resembled a complete set of instructions, with inputs and outputs, trigger conditions, and an execution process.
When the concentration of vow power within a host reached a specific threshold, the instructions would initiate.
Once initiated, the formation patterns would awaken from dormancy and begin extracting the host's vitality and vow power, channeling them outward.
The outputs were remarkably uniform in direction, all pointing toward the same location.
A location the Heavenly Dao had completely erased from causality itself.
Zhou Xuan stared at the data, a chill creeping up his spine.
Seeds planted over ten thousand years ago had been passed down with unerring precision through generation after generation of mortals.
They were waiting for a day when enough hosts were activated to channel a colossal amount of energy toward that location simultaneously.
This was no Cultivator's conspiracy.
It was an undertaking of staggering proportions.
A monumental undertaking spanning ten thousand years, carried out through the mortal bloodlines of the entire Northern Lands.
"Old Ye."
"Right here."
"Doing anything directly to the people is a dead end. We can't remove the seeds. Force them out, and the people die on the spot. Seventy percent of three million mortals carry this thing. Work out how many lives that is."
Ye Changqing's face grew even paler. More than two million people.
"Then what do we do? Just stand by and watch?"
Zhou Xuan shut off the projection.
"Find the source. Find the root of the sickness."